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IN  THE  CUSTODY  OF  THE 

BOSTON     PUBLIC  LIBRARY. 


SHELF    N° 


'-O 


7Z^ 


I 


AL  L    T  H  E       ^ 

W    O    R    K    S 

O    F 

EPICTETUS, 

w 

.WHICH  ARE  NOW  EXTANTj 

CONSISTING    OF 

His  Discourses,  preferved  by  Arrian, 

IN  FOUR  BOOKS, 

The  Enchiridion,   and  Fragments. 

Tranflated  from  the  Original  Greek, 
By  ELIZABETH  CARTER. 

WITH 
An  Introduction,  and  Notes,  by  the  Tranflator. 

DUBLIN: 

Printed  for  HuLTON  Bradley,  Bookfeller,  at  the 
King^s  Arms  and  Two  Bibles  in  Dame-fireet, 

MDCCUX. 


^DAKJSI-ef'? 


The  Translator  of  Epictetus  owes  the  Per- 
miflion  of  infer  ting  the  following  ODE  intirely 
to  the  Friendfhip  of  the  Writer  of  it  •,  who, 
when  fhe  favoured  her  with  it,  had  no  Thought 
of  its  ever  appearing  in  Print. 

An   Irregvlar  ODE. 


To  E.  C.  who  had  recommended  to  me  the  Stoic  Philo- 
fophy,  as  prodn5five  of  Fortitude,  and  who  is  go- 
ing to pubii/h  a  Tranjlation  ^/Epictetus, 


I. 


COME,  Epictetus!  Arm  my  Bread 
With  thy  impenetrable  Steel, 
No  more  the  Wounds  of  Grief  to  feel, 
Nor  mourn  by  oihers'  Woes  depreft. 
Oh  teach  my  trembling  Heart 
To  fcorn  Afili6hon's  Dart ; 
Teach  me  to  mock  the  Tyrant  Pain ! 
For  fee  around  me  ftand 
A  dreadful  murdVous  Band, 
I  fly  their  cruel  Power  in  vain  ! 
Here  lurks  Dijt'mper\  horrid  Train, 
And  There  the  Pajfions  lift  their  flaming  Brands; 
Tbefe  with  fell  Rage  my  helplefs  Body  tear. 

While  Thofe  with  daring  Hands 
Againfl;  the  immortal  Soul  their  impious  Weapons  rear. 


A  a 


IL 


An  Irregular  ODE. 

11. 

Where-e'er  I  turn,  frefh  Evils  meet  my  Eyes ; 
Sin,  Sorrow,  and  Difgrace, 
Purfue  the  Human  Race  ! 
There  on  the  Bed  of  Sicknefs  Virtue  lies  1 
See  Friendfiip  bleeding  by  the  Sword 
Of  bafe  Ingratitude! 
See  baleful  Jeabufy  intrude. 
And  poifon  all  the  Blifs  that  Love  had  flor'd  \ 
Oh  !  feal  my  Ears  againfl:  the  piteous  Cry 

Of  Innocence  diftreft ! 
Nor  let  me  fhrink,  when  Fancy's  Eye 
Beholds  the  guilty  Wretch's  Breaft 
Beneath  the  torturing  Pincers  heave  : 
Nor  for  the  num'rous  Wants  of  Mis'ry  grieve. 
Which  all-difpofing  Heav'n  denies  me  to  relieve  1 

III. 

No  longer  let  my  fleeting  Joys  depend 
On  focial,  or  domeftic  Ties ! 
Superior  let  my  Spirit  rife. 
Nor  in  the  gentle  Counfels  of  a  Friend, 
Nor  in  the  Smiles  of  Love,  exped  Delight  i 
But  teach  me  in  rnyfelf  to  find 
Whate'er  can  pleafe  or  fill  my  Mind. 
Let  inward  Beauty  charm  the  mental  Sight ; 
Let  Godlike  Reafon,  beaming  bright, 
Chace  far  away  each  gloomy  Shade, 
Till  Virtue's  heav'nly  Form  difplay'd 
Alone  fhall  captivate  my  Soul, 
And  her  divineft  Love  poflefs  me  whole  I 

IV, 

But,  ah !  what  means  this  impious  Pride, 
Which  heav'nly  Hofts  deride  ! 

Within  wv/^//' does  Virtue  dwell? 
Is  all  ferene,  and  beauteous  there  ? 

What  mean  thefe  chilling  Damps  of  Fear  ? 

Tell  mt,  Pbilofophy !  Thou  Boafter!    Tell 

This  God-like  all-fufficient  Mind, 

Which,  in  its  own  Perfeftion  bleft. 
Defies  the  Woes,  or  Malice  of  Mankind 

To  fhake  its  felf-pofleffing  Reft, 


An  Irregular  ODE. 

IsItnotfoul>  weak,  ignorant,  and  blind? 

Oh  Man  !  from  confcioiis  Virtue's  Praife 

Fall'n,  fall'n  ! what  Refuge  can'ft  thou  find  ! 

What  pitying  Hand  again  will  raife 
From  native  Earth  thy  groveling  Frame ! 
Ah,  who  will  cleanfe  thy  Heart  from  Spot  of  finful  Blame? 

V. 

But,  See  I  what  fudden  Glories  from  the  Sky 
To  my  benighted  Soul  appear. 
And  all  the  gloomy  Profpe6t  cheer  ? 
AVhat  awful  Form  approaches  nigh  ? 
Awful :  Yet  mild  as  is  the  fouthern  Wind 

That  gently  bids  the  Forefl:  nod. 
Hark !  Thunder  breaks  the  Air,  and  Angels  fpeak  ? 
•'  Behold  the  Saviour  of  the  World  !   Behold  the  Lamb  of 
Ye  Sons  of  Pride,  behold  his  Afped  meek !       [God  !'* 
The  Tear  of  Pity  on  his  Cheek  I 

See  in  his  Train  appear 
Humility  and  Patience  fweet, 
■Repentance,  prollrate  at  His  facred  Feet, 
Bedews  with  Tears,  and  wipes  them  with  her  flowing  Hair ! 

VI. 

What  Scenes  now  meet  my  wond'ring  Eyes  [ 

W^hat  hallow'd  Grave, 
By  mourning  Maids  attended  round. 
Attracts  the  Saviour's  Steps  ?  What  heart-felt  Wound 
His  fpotlefs  Bofom  heaves  with  tender  Sighs  ? 
Why  weeps  the  Son  belov'd.  Omnipotent  to  fave  ? 
But,  lo  !  He  waves  his  awful  Hand  ! 
The  fleeping  Clay  obeys  His  dread  Command. 

Ob  Lazarus !  come  forth  ! "  Come  forth  and  fee 

"  The  dear  Effeds  of  wond'rous  Love  ! 
*'  He,  at  whofe  Word  the  Seas  and  Rocks  remove, 
**  Thy  Friend,  thy  Lord,  thy  Maker,  weeps  for  Thee  1" 

VII. 

Thy  Walls,  Jerujalem,  have  feen  thy  King, 
In  Meeknefs  clad,  lament  thy  haplefs  Fate  ! 
Unquench'd  His  Love,  though  paid  with  ruthlefs  Hate  \ 
O  loft,  vtXtntMsSion!  Didft  Thou  know 

Who  thus  vouchfafes  thy  Courts  to  tread. 

What  loud  Hofannas  wouldft  thou  fing ! 

How  eager  crown  his  honour'd  Head !  Nor 


An  Irregular  ODE. 

Nor  fee  unmovM  His  kind  paternal  Woe  ! 
Nor  force  His  Tears,  His  precious  Blood,  for  thee  to  flow  ! 

VIII. 

No  more  repine,  my  coward  Soul ! 

The  Sorrows  of  Mankind  to  fhare. 
Which  He,  who  could  the  World  controul. 

Did  not  difctain  to  besr! 
Check  not  the  Flow  of  fwect  fraternal  Love, 

By  Heav'n's  high  King  in  Bounty  given, 
Thy  ftubborn  Heart  to  foften  and  improve. 
Thy  earth-clad  Spirit  to  refine. 
And  gradual  raife  to  Love  divine 
And  wing  its  foaring  Flight  to  Heaven ! 

Nor  Thou,  Eliza,  who  from  early  Youth 

By  Genius  led,  by  Virtue  train'd. 
Haft  fought  the  Fountain  of  eternal  Truth, 

And  each  fair  Spring  of  Knowlege  train'd  ; 

Nor  Thou,  with  fond  Chimeras  vain. 
With  Stoic  Pride,  and  fancied  Scorn 

Of  human  Feelings,  human  Pain, 
My  feeble  Soul  fuftain  I 
Far  nobler  Precepts  fhould  thy  Page  adorn. 
O  rather  guide  me  to  the  facred  Source 

Of  real  Wifdom,  real  Force, 
Thy  Life's  unerring  Rule  ! 
To  Thee,  fair  Truth  her  radiant  Form  unlhrouds. 
Though,  wrapp'd  in  thick  impenetrable  Clouds, 
She  mock'd  the  Labours  of  the  Grecian  School. 


INTRODUCTION. 


H  E  Stoic  ScCt  was  founded  by 
Zefio^  about  three  hundred  Years 
before  the  Chriftian  i^.ra :  and 
flpurifhed  in  great  Reputation, 
till  the  Declenfion  of  the  Roman 
Empire.  A  complete  Hiflory  of 
this  Philofophy  would  be  the  Work  of  a  large  Vo- 
lume :  and  nothing  further  is  intended  here,  than 
fuch  a  fummary  Viev^  of  it,  as  may  be  of  Ufe  to 
give  a  clearer  Notion  of  thofe  Paflages  in  Epi6fetus\, 
a  flrict  Profeflbr  of  it,  which  allude  to  fome  of  its 
peculiar  Dodrines. 

§.  2.  That  the  End  of  Man  is  to  live  conforma- 
bly to  Nature,  was  univerfally  agreed  on  amongft 
all  the  Fhilofophers :  but,  in  what  that  Conformity 
to  Nature  confifls,  was  the  Point  in  Difpute.  The 
'Epicureans  maintained,  that  it  confilled  in  Fleafure^ 
of  which  they  conilituted  Senfe  the  Judge  {a).  The 
Stoics,  on  the  contrary,  placed  it  in  an  abfolute 
A  4  Per- 

(a)  Sevjibus  ipjtsjudicari  'uoluptates.  CIc.  ds  Fin.  L  II.  By  Plea- 
fure  the  Epicureans  rometlmes explained  themfelves  to  mean,  only 
Freedom  rVom  Uneafinefs  :  but  thePhilofophers  of  other  Sects  in 
general,  as  well  as  Ciceroy  infift,  produring  their  own  Exprelfi- 
ons  tor  ir,  that  they  meant  fenfual  Delights.  This,'  indeed, 
was  more  explicitly  the  Dodlrine  of  yirWippus,  the  Father  of 
the  Cyrenaics:  a  Seel,  however,  which  funk  into  the  Epicureans  : 
whofe  Notions  plainly  led  to  the  Difliblutenefs  fo  remarkable  in 
the  Lives  of  mait  of  them. 


n  INTRODUCTION. 

.Perfe(5lion  of  the  Soul.  Neither  of  them  feentta 
have  underflood  Man  in  his  mixed  Capacity  ;  but 
while  the  firft  debafed  him  to  a  mere  Animal^ 
the  lad  exalted  him  to  a  pure  IntelHgence ;  and 
both  confidered  him  as  independent,  uncorrupted 
and  fufficient,  either  by  Heighth  of  Virtue  or  by 
well-regulated  Indulgence,  to  his  own  Happinefs. 
The  Stoical  Excefs  was  more  ufeful  to  the  Public, 
as  it  often  produced  great  and  noble  Efforts  towards 
that  Perfedion,  to  which  it  was  fuppo'ed  poflible 
for  human  Nature  to  arrive.  Yet,  at  the  fame 
time,  by  flattering  Man  with  falfe  and  prefumptu- 
ous  Ideas  of  his  own  Power  and  Excellence,  it 
tempted  even  the  befl  to  Pride :  a  Vice  not  only 
dreadfully  mifchievous  in  human  Society,  but,  per- 
haps of  all  others,  the  mofl  infuperable  Bar  to  real 
inward  Improvement. 

§.  3.  Ept^etus  often  mentions  Three  Topics,  or 
ClafTes,  under  which  the  whole  of  Moral  Philofo- 
phy  is  comprehended.  Thefe  are,  the  Defires  and 
Averfions^  the  Purfuhs  and  Avoidances^  or  the  Ex- 
ercife  of  the  a6tive  Powers,  and  the  Ajjenti  of  the 

Underftanding. 
^f'^"^  §.  4.   The  Defires  and  Averfions  were 

"^^^*  confidered  as  fimple  Affedions  of  the 
Mind,  arifmg  from  the  Apprehenfion,  that  any 
thing  was  conducive  to  Happinefs,  or  the  contrary. 
The  firft  Care  of  a  Proficient  in  Fhilofophy  was,  to 
regulate  thefe  in  fuch  a  manner,  as  never  to  be  dif^ 
appointed  of  the  one,  or  incur  the  other  :  a  Poipt 
no  otherwife  attainable,  than  by  regarding  all  Ex- 
ternals as  abfolutely  indifferent.  Good  mull  always 
be  the  Objedt  of  Defire,  and  Eviloi  i\verfion.  The 
Perfon  then,  who  confiders  Life,  Health,  Eafe, 
Friends,  Reputation,  ^fr.  as  Good\  and  their  Con- 
traries as  Rvil^  muft  neceflarily  ^^^*^  the  one,  and 
be  averfe  to  the  other  :  and,  confequently,  muft  of- 
ten ^uA  liis  Defre  difappointed,  and  his  /iverfion 
incurred.     The  Stoics,  therefore^  reftrained  Good 

and 


INTRODUCTION.  iii 

and  Evil  to  FiHue  and  Vice  alone  :  and  excluded  all 
Externals  from  any  Share  in  human  Happinefs, 
which  they  made  entirely  dependent  on  a  right 
Choice.  From  this  Regulation  of  the  Defi'  es  and 
Ave-ftons  follows  that  Freedom  from  Perturbation, 
Grief,  Anger,  Pfty,  ^c.  and  in  (hort,  that  univer- 
fal  Apathy,  which  they  every- where  ftrongly  in- 
culcate. 

§.  5.  The  next  Step  to  Stoical  Perfedion 
was,  the  Clafs  ojiFurJuits  and  Avoidances  {b):  ^f^""* 
As  the  Defir^s  and  Aver  [ions  are  fimple  T°f/*«» 
AfFedions,  the  Purfuits  and  Avoidances  are  Exer- 
tions of  the  adive  Powers  towards  the  procuring  or 
declining  any  thing.  Under  this  Head  was  com- 
prehended the  whole  Syflem  of  moral  Duties,  ac- 
cording to  their  incomplete  Ideas  of  them :  and  a 
due  Regard  to  it  was  fuppofed  to  enfure  a  proper 
Behaviour  in  all  the  focial  Relations.  The  con- 
ftant  Performance  of  what  thefe  point  out,  natu- 
rally followed  from  a  Regulation  of  the  Defires  and 
Aver/ions  in  the  lirft  Topic  :  for  where  the  Inclina- 
tions are  exerted  and  reftrained  as  they  ought,  there 
will  be  nothing  to  miflead  us  in  A61ion. 

§.  6.  The  lafl  Topic,  and  the  Completion  of  the 
Stoic  Charader,  was  that  of  the  Ajjmts  (c,\    As 

the 

{h)  The  Stoics  define  thefe  Terms :  the  one,  3  Motion,  by 
which  we  are  carried  toward  fome  Obje6t  j  the  other,  a  Mo- 
tion, by  which  we  ftrive  to  (hun  it.  The  original  Words,  by  a 
Happinefs  in  the  Greek  Language,  are  properly  oppofed  to  each 
other;  which  \!ti^  Englijh  will  not  admit.  I  have  chofen  the 
beft  I  could  find,  and  wifli  they  were  better. 

(c)  It  Teems  ftrange,  that  the  Stoics  generally  put  the  Ajfents 
latt:  fince  both  the  Affeftions  and  Will  fliould  be  governed  by 
the  Underftanding;  which,  therefore,  fiiould  be  retSlified,  in 
order  to  do  its  Office  well.  Epiiietus  feems  to  be  of  this  Opi- 
nion in  B.  I.  c.  17.  But,  perhaps,  they  thought  common 
Senfe,  or  natural  Logic,  fufficient  for  this  Porpofe  j  and  artifi- 
cial Logic,  which  they  meant,  but  did  not  exprefs  clearly,  by 
the  Word  A£ents^  neceffary  as  a  Guard  only  againft  Sophiihy. 
Yet  their  mentioning  it,  as  a  Guard  alio  againit  being  milled, 
when  they  were  in  Drink,  and  even  in  their  Dreams,  leaves 
but  little  Rcx)ra  for  this  Conjecture. 


iv  INTRODUCTION. 

the  fecond  was  to  produce  a  Security  from  Failure 
'  in  Practice,  this  was  to  fecure  an  Infallibility  in 
Judgment,  and  to  guard  the  Mind  from  ever  either 
admitting  a  Faifhood,  or  difTenting  from  Truth. 
A  wife  Man,  in  the  Stoic  Scheme,  was  never  to  be 
miflaken,  or  to  form  any  Opinion.  Where  Evi- 
dence could  not  be  obtained,  he  was  to  continue  in 
Sufpenfe.  His  Underllanding  was  never  to  be 
milled,  even  in  Sleep,  or  under  the  Influence  of 
Wine,  or  in  a  Delirium.  In  this  laft  Particular, 
however,  there  is  not  a  perfedl  Agreement :  and 
fbme  Authors  are  fo  very  reafonable,  as  to  admit 
it  poflible  for  a  Philofopher  to  be  miflaken  in  his 

Judgment,  after  he  hath  lofl  his  Senfes  {d), 
dfxvrao-icti.       §.  7.  The  Subjcdls  of  thefe  feveral  Claf- 

fes  of  philofophic  Exercife  are,  the  Jp- 
pearances  of  Things  {e).  By  thefe  /Appearances  the 
Stoics  underftood  the  Impreffions  (/j  made  on  the 
Soul,  by  anyObje(5ts,  prefented  either  to  the  Senfes, 
or  to  the  Underflanding.  Thus  a  Houfe,  an  Ef- 
tate,  Life,  Death,  Pain,  Reputation,  ^c.  (confi- 
dered  in  the  View,  under  which  they  are  prefented 
to  the  perceptive  Faculties)  in  the  Stoical  Senfe  are, 
j^pfearances.  The  Uie  of  Appearances  is  common 
to  Brutes,  and  Men  ;  an  intelligent  Ufe  of  them  be- 
longs only  to  the  latter  :  a  Difdnclion,  which  is 
carefully  to  be  obferved  in  reading  thefe  Difcourfes. 

§.8. 

rrip,  oia.  ^t^onovq  xaTcc>.-n-^eii;.      Dlog.  LaerT.  ?>  ZenO. 

Nam  ii  argumentaberis,  fapientem  multo  vino  inebriarl,  et 
retinere  reftum  tenorem,  etiamfi  temulentus  fit :  licet  colli'gas,' 
nee  veneno  poto  morirurum,  &'c.    Sen.  Epiji.  83. 

fe)  The  origina!  Word  is  of  peculiar  Signification  among  the 
Stoics :  and  I  wifh  it  could  have  been  rendered  into  Englljh^  in  a 
manner  lefs  ambiguous,  and  more  exprefTive  of  its  Meaning. 
But  the  Stoic  Language  pcrifhed  with  the  Stoic  Seft  :  and  fcarce- 
\y  any  of  its  technical  Terms  can  now  be  rendered  intelligible, 
except  by  a  Paraphrafe,  or  a  Definition. 

(f)  TvTTUffiv  t»  -^ix^-     DiOG.  Laekt.  L.  VII.  §.  45. 


INTRODUCTION.  v 

§.8.  That  Judgment,  which  is  formed    AoyiAarat. 
by  the  Mind  concerning  the  /Ippearances^ 
the  Stoics  termtd  Principles :  and  thefe  Principles 
give  a  Determination  to  the  Choice. 

§.9.  The  Choice^  among  the  Stoics,    U^ocipta-si^. 
figniiied,  either  the  Faculty  of  Willing ; 
or  a  deliberate  Election  made  of  fbme  Ad:ion,  or 
Courfe  of  Life. 

§.  10.  As  the  Appearances  refped 
piarticular  Objeds,  the  Pre-conceptions  are  ii^ox>;4.«y. 
general  innate  Notions,  fuch  as  they  fup- 
pofed  to  take  original  Pofleflion  of  the  Mind,  be- 
fore it  forms  any  of  its  own  {g).  To  adapt  thefe 
Pre-conceptions  to  particular  Cafes,  is  the  Office  of 
Reafon  :  and  is  often  infifled  en  by  Epi^etus^  as  a 
Point  of  the  higheft  Importance. 

§.  II.  By  the  Word,  which  throughout 
this  Tranflation  is  rendered  Profperity^  the  E^foi«. 
Stoics  underflood  the  internal  State  of  the 
Mind,  when  the  AfFedions  and  adive  Powers  were 
fo  regulated,  that  it  confidered  all  Events  as  happy  : 
and,  confequently,  mufl  enjoy  an  uninterrupted 
Flow  of  Succefs :  fince  nothing  could  fall  out  con- 
trary to  its  Wifhes  (h). 

Thefe,  which  have  been  mentioned,  are  the 
technical  Terms  of  the  greatefl  Confequence  in  the 
Stoic  Philofophy  :  and  which,  for  that  Reafon,  are, 
except  in  a  very  few  Places,  always  rendered  by 
the  fame  Englijh  Word.  There  are  other  Words 
ufed  in  a  pecuHar  Senfe  by  this  Sedt :  but,  as  they  are 
not  of  equal  Importance,  they  are  neither  fo  flridly 
tranflated,  nor  need  any  particular  Definition. 

§■  12. 

DioG.  Laert.  L.  VII.  §.  54. 
(hj  I  am  fenfible,  that  Frofperity^  in  common  Ufe,  relates 
wholly  to  external  Circumftances :  but  I  could  find  no  better 
Word  to  exprels  the  internal  good  Condiiion  of  Mind,  which 
the  Stoics  meant  by  Eyfoja.  There  is  an  Inftance  of  the  like  Ufe 
)  John  iii.  2, 


vi  INTRODUCTION. 

§.  12.  The  Stoics  held  Logic  in  the  higheflEf^ 
teem  :  and  often  carried  it  to  fuch  a  trifling  Degree 
ofSubtilty,  as  rendered  their  Arguments  very  te- 
dious and  perplexed.  The  frequent  References  to 
logical  Qiieflions  and  the  life  of  fyllogiftical  Terms, 
are  the  leaft  agreeable  Part  of  the  Difcourfes  of 
Epi^fetus :  fmce,  however  well  they  miglit  be  un- 
derflood  by  fome  of  his  Hearers,  they  are  now  un- 
intelligible to  the  greatefl  Part  of  his  Readers.  In- 
deed, with  all  his  vStrength  and  Clearneis  of  Under- 
flanding,  he  feems  to  have  been  hurt  by  this  fa- 
vourite Science  of  his  Sedl.  One  is  fometimes  fur- 
prifed  to  find  his  Reafoning  incoherent  and  per- 
plexed :  and  his  Scholars  rather  filenced  by  Inter- 
rogatories, which  they  are  unable  to  comprehend, 
than  convinced  by  the  Force  of  Truth  •,  and  then 
given  up  by  him,  as  if  they  were  hopelefs  and  un- 
teachable.  Yet  many  a  well-meaning  Underfland- 
ing  may  be  lofl  in  a  Wood  by  the  Confufion  of  dia- 
lectical Quibbles,  which  might  have  been  led,  with- 
out Difficulty,  to  the  Point  in  view,  if  it  had  been 
luffered  to  follow  the  Track  of  common  Senfe. 

§.  13.  The  Stoic  Scheme  of  Theology,  as  it  is 
explained  in  Cicero,  and  other  antient  Writers,  ap- 
pears, in  many  Parts  of  it,  flrangely  perplexed  and 
abfurd.  Some  however  of  this  leeming  Abfurdity 
m.ay  poiTibly  arife  from  the  Ufe  of  flrong  Figures  ^ 
and  the  infinite  Difficulty  of  treating  a  Subjedt,  for 
which  no  human  Language  can  fupply  proper  and 
adequate  Terms  (J).  The  Writings  of  the  firil 
Founders  of  the  Stoic  Philofophy,  who  treated  ex- 
prefly  on  Phyfiologv  and  Metaphyfics,  are  now  lofl: ; 
and-dl  that  can  be  knov/n  of  their  Dodrine  is  from  - 
Fragments,  and  the   Accounts  given  of  them   by 

other 

ij)  Qyidquid  de  Deo  dixeris,  quidquld  tacitx  mentis  cogita- 
tione  conceperis,  in  humanum  tranfiiit,  et  corrumpitur,  fen- 
ium  :  nee  habet  proprise  fignincationis  notam,  quod  noftris  ver- 
bis dicitur,  atque  ad  humana  negotia  compofitis. 

AR\OB.«^<y  get.'es.L,  II f.  p.  iii,  Ed.  ludg.  Bat,  16^1^, 


INTRODUCTION.  vil 

£)t1ier  Authors.  By  what  can  be  collcded  from 
thefe,  and  particularly  by  the  Account  which  Dlo- 
genes  Laeriius  gives  of  the  Stoics,  they  appear  to 
have  held,  that  there  is  one  fupreme  God,  incor- 
ruptible, unoriginated  (k),  immortal,  rational,  and 
perfed  in  Intelligence  and  Kappinefs :  unfufcepti- 
ble  of  all  Evil :  governing  the  World,  and  every 
thing  in  it,  by  his  Providence  :  not  however  of  the 
human  Form ;  but  the  Creator  of  the  Univerfe  : 
the  Father  likewife  of  all  (/J  :  and  that  the  feveral 
Names  of /?^i?//<?,  Minerva^  Ceres ^  &c.  only  denote 
different  Exertions  of  his  Power  in  the  different 
Parts  of  the  Univerfe  (m).  It  would  be  well,  if  they 
had  flopt  here:  but  they  plainly  fpeak  of  the 
World,  as  God,  or  of  God  as  the  Soul  of  the  World  » 
w^hich  they  call  his  Subftance  {n) :  and  I  do  not  re- 
colled  any  Proof,  that  they  believed  Him  to  exiil 
in  the  extramundane  Space.  Yet  they  held  the 
World  to  be  finite  (>J,  and  corruptible  :  and  that, 
at  certain  Periods,  it  was  to  undergo  fucceilive 
Conflagrations,  and  then  all  Beings  were  to  be  re- 
forbed  into  God,  and  again  reproduced  by  Him  (p). 
What  they  intended  by  being  reforbed  into  God,  as 
I  do  not  comprehend,  I  will  not  attempt  to  explain  : 
but  I  fear  they  underftood  by  it,  a  Lofs  of  feparate 
perfonal  Exiflence.  Yet  fome  of  the  later  Stoics 
departed  from  this  Dodrine  of  the  Conflagration, 
and  fuppofed  the  World  to  be  immortal  f^).  In- 
deed 

(k)  A^OapT©-  xui  aysvpyiroq.      DiOG.  Laert.  L.  VII.  §.  137. 

(/)  ©Hov  y  succi  Zijov  ci^cKvccrov^  XoyiKovy  riKeiov,  19  voifov  ev  bv^ai^^O' 
yia,  Kxxov  vavr©-  avi7rihx.rov,  'Tr^ovoYinhov  xtc-fjLov  re  Kcci  ruv  ey  xocrua)' 
f^n  su-at  fA£»To;  ay0^w7rof*op^ov'  mui  as  rov  /xe»  hi^iovfyov  run  ohuv,  uaini 
KCt\  irccrtfcc  '^  avruv.      lb.  §.  147. 

(mj   HoA^aj ;  w^oo-Tjyopiatj  TT^ocrovo^a^ETat  xara  TO.?  dyva/xEt?.      lb, 

(«)   Ovoiixv   h  Qcov  Zvivuv  (A>B»  (py)crt  rov  oAov  kocxulov  acck  rov  ovpctvov, 

lb,  i  148- 

foj  'O  fjLSV  OVV  XOC-fA.^  WETrEpacrttE*©- Er»,       lb. 

(p)  Ka,TX  yj^ovm  TTGtCK;  T/npio^oi/q  a,vu\i(rKuv  nq  za,vTov  ircccxv  rriv 
*>vcriuv,  icoci -ncthiv  i^  tavrov  yivnuv,     lb.  §.  137. 

(^)  See  Pkilo  Juu^us,  of  the  Incorruptibility  of  the  World, 
p.  947.  Ed.  Par. 


viii  INTRODUCTION, 

deed  there  is  often  fo  much  Obfcurity,  and  Appear- 
ance of  Contradiction,  in  their  Expreffions,  that  it 
is  very  difficult,  if  nc-t  impoflible,  to  form  any  pre- 
cife  Idea  of  their  Meaning.  They  who,  with  im- 
partiality, read  what  the  ancient  Philofophers,  of 
alj  Sedls,  have  written  on  the  Nature  of  God,  will 
often  find  Caufe  to  think,  with  the  utmofl  Vene- 
ration and  Gratitude,  on  the  only  Book,  in  which 
this  important  Article  is  explained,  fo  far  as  is  ne- 
GefTary  to  be  known,  in  a  manner  perfedly  agreea- 
ble to  the  Principles  of  fimple,  unperverted  Rea- 
Ibn.  For  what  it  gracioufly  teaches  more  than 
Reafon  could,  it  confirms  by  fuch  Evidences  of  its 
Authority,  as  Reafon  mufl  admit,  or  contradict 
itfelf. 

§.14.  The  Stoics  fbmetimes  define  God  to  be  an 
intelligent,  fiery  Spirit,  without  Form,  but  pafling 
into  whatever  Things  it  pleafes,  and  aflimilating  it- 
felf to  all  (r) :  fometimes  an  active,  operative 
Fire  (j).  It  might  be  hoped,  that  thefe  were  only 
metaphorical  Phrafes,  if  they  did  not  exprefsly 
fpeak  of  God  as  corporal ;  which  is  objedted  to  them 
by  Plutarch  (/).  Indeed  they  defined  all  Eflence 
to  be  Body  {u).  An  Error  of  which,  probably, 
they  did  not  difcover  the  ill  Tendency,  any  more 
than  "Tcrtullian  ;  who  inconfiderately  followed  them 
in  this  very  unphilofophical  Notion,  that  what  is 
not  Body,  is   nothing  at   all  {w).     His  Chriftian 

Faith 

(r)  ©£0?  £r»  vysvfAii,  tosfov  suci  irv^u^i^y  ovk  s^pv  fjuofipvivj  |*6Ta(oa^Xoy 
^e  El?  a  QovXiTUi  xcn  cvn^o^iov^vjov  Trcccri.      PoslDONiUS. 

fj)  Uvpr^x^ixov.     Plut.  de  Placit.  Philofoph    L.  I.  C.  7. 

[t)  Ovroi  Tov  ©gov,  appojK  ovTct,  1,u}^oi  vob^ov,  x.a,t,  vow  ev  *yX»)  irot- 
•V)i7i(;y  Of  xa&af ^v  otd^  a7rAou>  ov^s  acvvQ£Toy'  a,7\'Ka  i^  'erecov,  xui  h 
srsfov  a7r(>(pcc:vQva-i.  Plut.  de  commwtibus  notitiis  ad'V.  Sfoicos.p. 
1085. 

(uj  Zfc)/xa  o£  £rt,  XCC7U  ayrevj,  h  wax    DiOG.  Laert.  L.  VII. 

(fiv)  y-V-^.  Praxearn^  c  7.  Yet,  De  Anima^  c.  7.  he  fays, 
Omne  corporale  pairibiie  ell  -,  v/hirh  lie  certaiaiy  did  not  think 
Gcd  v,'a3. 


INTRODUCTION.  Ix 

Faith  fecures  him  from  the  Imputation  of  Impiety  : 
and  the  jufi:  and  becoming  Manner,  in  which  the 
Stoics,  in  many  Inflances,  fpeak  of  God,  fhoiild  in- 
cline one  to  form  the  fame  favourable  Judgment  of 
them  :  and  thofe  Authors  feem  guilty  of  great  In  - 
juftice,  who  reprefented  them,  as  little  better  than 
Atheifts. 

§.  1 5.  They  held  the  Eternity  of  Matter,  as  a 
paflive  Principle  ;  but  that  it  was  reduced  into  Form 
by  God ;  and  that  the  World  w^as  made,  and  is 
continually  governed  by  Him  (^J.  They  fome- 
times  reprefent  him,  as  modelling  the  Conititution 
of  the  World  with  fupreme  Authority  (y)  :  .  at 
others,  as  limited  by  the  Materials,  which  He  had 
not  the  Power  to  change  (zj.  Epi^etus  may  be 
thought  to  incline  to  this  latter  Opinion  (a) :  yet 
his  Words  are  capable  of  a  different  Turn.  And 
there  are,  perhaps,  more  Arguments,  in  the  Writ- 
ings of  the  Stoics,  to  prove  their  Belief  of  the  un- 
controulable  Power  of  the  Deity  in  the  Formation 
of  Things,  than  thofe,  which  fome  unguarded  Ex- 
preilions  appear  to  furnifli  againft  it. 

§.  16.  Of  all  the  Philofophers  the  Stoics  were 
the  cleareft  and  moft  zealous  Aflertors  of  a  particu- 
lar Providence (b\  :  a  Belief,  which  was  treated  with 
the  utmoll  Contempt  by  the   Epicureans  (c).     As 

this 

(x)  AoxEt  ^'ayroJ?  ap;^a?  Etvai  tuv  oXwv  ova,  to  iroiovv  xoc.  to  itucr- 
ypv'  TO  yt.iv  cvv  'Kotff^ov  nvcii  T*jv  uTToiov  ovcriaVf  TTiv  vXriv.  To  h  <7roi- 
ovv,   Tov  ev  avT'/tXoyoVy  tov  Qiov.      DiOG.  LaER.  L.  VII.  §.  I  34. 

(yj  Deus  ifta  temperat,  quae  circumfufa  Redorem  Tequun- 
tur  et  Ducem.  Potentius  autem  eft  qpod  facit,  quod  eft:  Deus, 
quam  materia  patiens  Dei.     Sen.  Epijf.  65. 

•  Nulli  igitur  eft  naturae  obediens,  aut  fubjeflus  Deus,  Om- 
nem  ergo  regit  ipfe  naturam.  Cic.  ^c  Nat.  Dcor,  L.  II.  §.  30. 
Ed.  Da'v. 

fz)-  Non  poteft  artifex  mutare  materiam.  Sen.  de  Prcvid, 
c.  8. 

(a)  B.I.c.  I. 

(b)  Non  univerfo  Hominum  Generi,  rolu:n,  it<i  etiam  fingu- 
lis,  ^c.  Cic.  de  Nat.  Deer.   L.  Ill 

(tj  Anus  fatidica.    Jb.  L.  I, 


X  INTRODUCTION. 

this  Principle  is,  of  all  others,  the  moft  conducive 
to  the  Interells  of  Virtue,  and  lays  the  Foundation 
of  all  true  Piety,  the  Stoics  are  intitled  to  the 
highefl:  Honour  for  their  fteady  Defence  of  it ;  and 
their  utter  Rejedion  of  the  idle,  and  contemptible 
Notion  of  Chance  (d). 

§.17.  By  Fa!e  they  feem  to  have  underftood  a 
Series  of  Events,  appointed  by  the  immutable 
Counfels  of  God :  or,  that  Law  of  his  Providence, 
by  which  he  governs  the  World  (e).  It  is  evident 
by  their  Writings,  that  they  meant  it  in  no  Senfe, 
v/\}kh  interferes  with  the  Liberty  of  human  Adions. 
Cicero  allows,  that  Chryftppus  endeavoured  to  recon- 
cile Fate  with  Free  Will :  and  that  it  was  contrary 
to  his  Intention,  that,  by  a  perplexed  Way  of  ar- 
guing, he  confirmed  the  Dodrine  of  Neceflity  (f). 
Whenever  they  fpeak  of  God,  as  fubjed  to  Fate, 
which  it  mufl  be  owned  they  fometimes  do  in  a 
very  ftrong  and  unguarded  manner,  their  Meaning 
feems  to  be,  that  his  own  eternal  Will  is  his  Law  : 
that  he  cannot  change  -,  becaufe  he  always  ordains 
what  is  befl  [g] :  and  that,  as  Fate  is  no  more  than 
a  conneded  Series  of  Caufes,  God  is  the  Firft  Ori- 
ginal Caufe,  on  which  all  the  reft  depend  (h), 

§.  18.  They  imagined  the  whole  Univerfe  to  be 
peopled  with  Gods,  Genii,  and  Demons :  and  among 
other  inferior  Divinities  reckoned  the  Sun,  Moon, 
and  Stars,  which  they  conceived  to  be  animated 
and  intelligent  •,  or  inhabited  by  particular  Deities, 

as 


(d)  Nee  fine  Ratione,  quamvis  fubita,  acddere.    Sen.  di 
Pro'vid.  c.  I . 

(e)  Aoyo?,  xaG'  ov  hxoTf/i/^  ^it^ayiTUi.     DiOG.  Laer.  L.  VII. 

•i  149-  ,  ^ 

(fj  Chryftppus AppHcat  fe  ad  eos  potius,  qui  necemtate 

motus  Aninios  [Animorum  Dav.^  liberates  volunt.     Dum  au- 
tern  verbis  utitur  luis^  delabitur  in  eas  Difficultates,  ut  neceflita- 
tem  Fati  confirmet  inv:tus.    Cic.de  Fato,  §.  17.  Da<v.  Chryfippus 
sutem,  cum  et^eceffitatem  improbaret,  i^fc,  §.  18. 
(g)  Sen.  deBenficiis.    L.  VI.  C  23. 
W  lb.  L,  IV.  c.  7. 


INTRODUCTION.  xi 

as  the  Body  is  hy  the  Soul,  who  prefided  over  them, 
and  direded  their  Motions  (/).  I 

§.19  The  Stoics  held  both  the  above-mention- 
ed Intelligences,  and  the  Souls  of  Men,  to  be  Por- 
tions of  the  Ellence  of  God  (^),  or  Parts  of  the 
Soul  of  the  World  (/)  :  and  to  be  corporeal  (m), 
and  perilhable  (»).  Some  of  them  indeed  main- 
tained, that  human  Souls  fubOfled  after  Death  : 
but  that  they  were,  like  all  other  Beings,  to  be 
confumed  at  the  Conflagration.  Cleanthes  taught, 
that  all  Souls  lafted  till  tliat  Time  :  Chryftppus^  only 
thofe  of  the  Good  {0),  Seneca  is  perpetually  waver- 
ing :  fometimes  fpeaking  of  the  Soul  as  immortal ; 
and,  at  others,  as  penHiing  with  the  Body.  And 
indeed  there  is  nothing  but  Confufion,  and  a  me- 
lancholy Uncertainty,  to  be  met  with  among  the 
Stoics,  on  this  Subject. 

§.  ao.  There  is,  I  think,  very  little  Evidence  to 
be  found,  that  they  believed  future  Rewards  or  Pu- 
nifhments,  compared  with  that  which  appears  to 
the  contrary  {p) :  at  leafl:  the  Reader  will  obferve, 
that  Epi^etiis  never  aflerts  either.  He  flrongly  in- 
fills, that  a  bad  Man  hath  no  other  Punifhment, 
than  being  fuch  ;  and  a  good  Man,  no  other  Re- 
ward {q]  :  and  he  tells  his  Difciple,  that,  when 
Want  of  Neceflaries  obliges  him  to  go  out  of  Life, 
/    a  he 

(i)  Q\c.  de  Natura  Deorum  L.  II.  C.  15. 

(k)  Epic.  B.  I.e.  14,  ^c. 

(I)  'H?^£g7j«vat  Ta?  i»  T045  Z«oj^.  DlOG,  LaERT.  L.  VII. 
5.156. 

(m)  Tnv  h  -^vyr^v—Kai  Yuia-cc  eaui.     lb. 

(»)  Tviv  ^vxnv  (A,tTx  ^avoLTov  frrt^jLiveiVi  (pQu^rvtt  ^  nuai.      lb. 

(0)  KAeavG?}?  vraaaq,  i'7n^iOi^i¥eiv  (paa-ty  fifp^^i  iXTryfwj-jwj,  Xpy- 
ffivtr'^  hy  TO?  Twv  5)o(pa/v  f*oj'#».     lb.  §.  157. 

(;•)  La^antiusy  indeed,  L.  Vll.  c.  7.  fays:  Efle  inferos  Ze-- 
non  Stoicus  docuit,  et  fedes  piorum  ab  impiis  efle  difcretas :  et 
illos  quidem  quietas  et  dele^labiles  incolere  Regiones ;  hos  vero 
luere  pcenas  in  tenebrofis  locis,  atque  in  caeni  voraginibus  hor- 
rendis.  But  I  know  not  that  any  other  Author  relates  this  of 
him. 

(q)  See  B.  I.  c.  12.  p.  42.  B.  Ill  c.  7.  p.  219.  Id.  c.  24. 
p.  280.     B.  IV.  c.  9.  i  2,  3.    Id  c   ic.  \.  2.  c  12.  J.  4. 


xii  INTRODUCTION. 

he  returns  to  tlie  Four  Elements,  of  which  he  was 
made :  that  there  is  no  Hades^  nor  Acheron^  nor 
Pyriphkgethon  (r) :  and  he  clearly  affirms,  that  per- 
fonal  Exigence  is  loft  in  Death  (5).  Had  Ept^etus 
believed  future  Rewards,  he  muft,  of  Courfe,  have 
made  frequent  mention  of  them  (/).  M.  Antoninus, 
upon  a  Suppofition  that  Souls  continue  after  Death, 
makes  them  to  remain  for  fome  Time  in  the  Air  : 
and  then  to  be  changed,  diffiifed,  kindled  and  refumed 
into  the  produdive  Intelligence  of  the  Univerfe  {u). 
In  another  Place,  he  vindicates  the  Condud  of  Provi- 
dence, on  the  Hypothelis,  that  the  Souls  of  the 
Good  are  extinguilhed  by  Death  (w). 

§.21.  The  Stoics  thought,  that  every  fingle  Per- 
fon  had  a  tutelary  Genius  alTigned  him  by  God,  as  a 
Guardian  of  his  Soul,  and  a  Superintendent  of  his 
Conduct  {x) :  and  that  all  Virtue  and  Happinefs 

eori- 

(r)  B.  III.  c.  13.  p  233. 

{s)  Id.  c.  24.  p   288. 

(t)  The  only  Paflage,  that  I  can  recolleft,  m  which  any 
Intimation  feems  to  be  given  of  a  future  Reward,  is  in  the 
XVth  Chapter  of  tht  Enchiridion :  and,  probably,  even  there 
he  means  only  a  Happinefs  to  be  enjoyed  in  the  prefent  Life,  af- 
ter due  Improvement  in  Philofophy  ;  though  he  exprefles  it  by 
the  very  ftrong  Figures  of  partaking  the  i'  eafts  and  Empire  of 
the  Gods.  For,  doubtiefs,  the  wife  Man,  like  his  Kindred 
Deities,  feafted  upon  every  Thing  that  happened  ;  and,  by  willing 
as  Jupiter  did,  reigned  along  with  Him.  Belides,  EpiSietus 
fays  there,  of  Diogenes,  and  Herac'itus,  or  Hercu/esy  not  that  they 
are,  but  that  they  ivere  divine  Perfons :  which  muft  refer  to 
fomething  which  had  ceafed  when  he  wrote;  and,  confeqaent- 
ly,  toiheir  Felicity  before,  not  after  their  Deaths.  At  leaft, 
he  doth  not  intimate  any  thing  concerning  their  fecond  Life  : 
and  if  that  was  to  be  ihort,  as  it  might  be  (and  it  could  not 
reach  beyond  the  Conflagration),  and  was  not  very  certain  nei- 
ther, the  Hope  of  it  would  be  a  very  infufficicnt  Counterbalance 
to  vehement  Appetites  and  PafTions. 

(uj  L.  4.  §  21.  Thefe  Exprelfions,  dijfufed  and  kindled, 
allude  to  the  Stoic  Dodtrine,  that  Souls  are  Portions  of  the 
Deity,  feparated  for  a  Time,  and  that  Hrs  Elfence  is  Fire, 

(•If)  L.  12.  §   1;. 

tLt^uTtnuv'nfu.y^Ciruv,      Dioc.  LaEkT.   L.  Vll.  ^.  I$I. 

Scit 


INTRODUCTION.  xiii 

confift  In  adling  in  concert  with  this  Genius,  with 
Reference  to  the  Will  of  the  fupreme  Diredor  of 
the  Whole  (jy J.  Sometimes,  however,  they  make 
the  Genius  to  be  only  the  ruling  Faculty  of  every 
one's  own  Mind  (z). 

§  22.  A  very  flight  Examination  of  their  Writ- 
ings is  fufficient  to  convince  any  impartial  Reader, 
how  little  the  Dodrines  of  this  Sed  were  fiited  to 
influence  the  Generality  of  Mankind.  But  indeed, 
about  the  Generality  of  Mankind,  the  Stoics  do 
not  appear  to  have  given  themfelves  any  kind  of 
Trouble.  They  Teemed  roconfider  All  (except  the 
Few,  who  were  Students  in  the  Intricacies  of  a  phi- 
lofophic  Syftem)  as  very  little  fuperior  to  Beads : 
and,  with  great  Tranquillity,  left  them  to  follow 
the  Devices  of  their  ownungoverned  Appetites  and 
Paflions.  How  unlike  was  this  to  the  diffufive  Be-» 
nevolence  of  the  divine  Author  of  the  Chrtftian  Re- 
ligion, who  adapted  his  Difcourfes  to  the  Compre- 
henfion,  and  extended  the  Means  of  Happinefs,  to 
the  Attainment  of  all  Mankind! 

§.23.  There  feem  to  be  only  two  Methods,  by 
which  the  prefent  Appearances  of  Things  are  capa- 
ble of  being  reconciled  to  our  Ideas  of  the  Juflice, 
Wifdom,  and  Goodnefs  of  God  :  the  one  is  the 
Dodrine  of  a  future  State ;  the  other,  the  Pofition, 
that  Virtue  alone  is  fufficient  to  human  Happinefs 
in  this  (a\  The  firfl,  which  was  the  Method  cho- 
a  2  fen 

Scit  Genius,  natale  comes  qui  temperat  Aftrum, 
Naturas  Deus  humans,  mortalis  in  unum 
Quodcunque  caput  Hor.  L.  I.  Ep.  II.  v.  1 86,  ^£. 

See  Ep!<^.  B.  I.  c.  14.  p.  46. 

fy)  "Eitui  S'a.VTo  rovro  rov  tv^onfjLOi^  ecptrriv  *ai  rrv  vjooiccv  Ciov^ 
OTav  <7ravroc  ^^aTTtjrai  xutoc  rr,)/  If/x^wita*  rov  Tap  ticocro ■^aijA.ov'^, 
TT^tq  Tr.v  rov  o>iOv  Aioixytrov  ^ovXr,a-iv.  DiOG  LaErt.  L.  VII- 
§.  88. 

(z)  See  M.  Antoninus,  L.  II.  c.  13.  17.  L.  III.  c.  3.  5.  L.  V. 
c.  27. 

{a)  Condonanda  tamen  fententia,  Sfoice,  veftra  eft. 

Nam  fi  poll  objmm,  neque  pr*emfa  liat,  qeque  poenae, 

Heu. 


xlv  INTRODUCTION. 

fen  by  Socrates^  folves  every  Difficulty,  without 
contradiding  either  Senfe  or  Reafon :  the  latter, 
which  was  unfortunately  maintained  by  the  Stoics, 
is  repugnant  to  both. 

§.  24.  That  there  is  an  intrinfic  Beauty  and  Ex- 
cellency in  moral  Goodnefs  •,  that  it  is  the  Ornament 
and  Perfedion  of  all  rational  Beings ;  and  tlvat,  till 
Confcience  is  flifled  by  repeated  Guilt,  we  feel  an 
Obligation  to  prefer  and  follow,  fo  far  as  we  per- 
ceive it,  in  all  Cafes  •,  and  find  an  inward  Satisfac- 
tion, and  generally  receive  outward  Advantages 
from  fo  doing,  are  Pofitions,  which  no  thinking 
Perfon  can  contradid  :  but  it  doth  not  follow  from 
hence,  that  in  fuch  a  Mixture,  as  Mankind,  it  is 
its  own  fufficient  Reward.  God  alone,  infinitely 
perfed,  is  happy  in,  ^nd  fromHimfelf.  The  Vir- 
tue o^ finite  Beings  mufl  be  defedive  :  and  the  Hap- 
pinefs  of  created  Beings  muft  be  dependent.  It  is 
undeniable  Fad,  that  the  natural  Confequences  of 
Virtue  in  fome,  may  be  interrupted  by  the  Vices 
of  others  How  much  are  the  beft  Perfons  liable 
to  fuffer  from  the  Follies  of  the  Unthinking ;  from 
the  Ill-nature,  the  Rage,  the  Scorn  of  the  Malevo- 
lent ;  from  the  cold  and  the  penurious  Hard-heart- 
ednefs  of  the  Unfeeling ;  from  Perfecutions,  for 
the  fake  both  of  Religion  and  Honefly  •,  from  ill  Re- 
turns to  conjugal,  to  parental,  to  friendly  Affedion  ; 
and  from  an  innumerable  Train  of  other  Evils,  to 
which  the  moft  amiable  Drfpofitions  are  ufually  the 
moft  fenfible.  It  is  no  lefs  undeniable,  that  the 
natural  Confequences  of  Virtue  are   interrupted  by 

the 

Heu,  quo  perventutn  eft  f  Heu,  quid  jam  denique  reftat  f 
Scilicet  humanas  gerit  aut  Res  numen  inique, 
Aut  nil  curat  iners,  aut,  fi  bene  temperat  orbem. 
Nemo  bonus  mifer  eft,  nemo  improbusefle  beatus 
Jn  vita  pollit,  Gens  utftbi  Stoicafingit. 

J.  Hawkins  Browne. 
I   bave  a  fingular  Pleafure  in  quoting  thefe   Lin€s,  from  a 
PoeiD,  which  does  Honour  to  pur  Cpuntr/. 


INTRODUCTION.  xv 

the  Struggles  of  our  own  Pafllons  ;  (which  we  may 
overcome  rewardably,  though  very  imperfedly  ;  <^r, 
if  weHve  to  overcome  more  perfediy,  we  may  not  live 
to  enjoy  the  Vidory  ;)  by  Sicknefs,  Pain,  Languor, 
Want ',  and  by  what  we  feel  from  the  Death,  or 
the  Sufferings  of  thofe,  with  whom  we  are  moft 
nearly  conneded.  We  are  often  indeed  afflide4 
by  many  of  thefe  Things,  more  than  we  ought  to 
be.  But  Concern  for  fome,  at  leafl  our  own  Fail: 
ings,  for  Inftance,  is  diredly  a  Duty ;  for  others,  if 
is  vifibly  the  Inflrument  of  moral  improvement ; 
for  more  ftill,  it  is  the  unavoidable  Relhlt  of  our 
Frame :  and  they  who  carry  it  too  far,  may,  on 
the  whole,  be  good  Charadlers  ;  and  even  they  who 
do  not,  in  any  confiderable  Degree,  may  however 
be  extremely  wretched.-  How  then  can  Virtue  be 
its  own  Reward  to  Mankind  in  general,  or  indeed 
a  proportionable  Reward  to  almofi:  any  Man  ?  Or 
how,  unlefs  the  View  be  extended  beyond  fuch  a 
Scene  of  Things,  the  certain  Means  of  Happinefs.^ 
The  originally  appointed  Means  ot  Happinefs  it  un- 
doubtedly is  :  but  that  it  fhould  be  an  etfedual  and 
infallible  Means  to  Creatures  fo  impeifedl,  palling 
through  fuch  a  difordered  World,  is  impolhble  with- 
out a  State  of  future  Rev/ard  \  and  of  this  tlie  Gofpel 
alone  gives  us  full  Afiurance. 

§.  25.  By  rejeding  the  Dodiine  of  Recompen- 
ces  in  another  Life,  the  Stoics  were  reduced  to  the 
Extravagance  of  fuppofmg  Felicity  to  be  enjoyed  in 
Circumftances,  which  are  incapable  of  it.  That  a 
good  Man  ftretched  on  a  Rack,  or  repofmg  on  a 
Bed  of  Rofes,  fliould  enjoy  himfelf  equally,  was  a 
Notion  which  could  gain  but  few  Profelytes  :  and  a 
iad  Experience,  that  Fain  was  an  Evil,  fometimes 
drove  their  own  Difciples  from  the  thorny  Afperi- 
ties  of  the  Portico,  to  the  flowery  Gardens  of  Epicurus.' 

§.  26.  The  abfolute  Indifference  of  all  Externals, 
and  the  Pofition,  That  Things  independent  on 
Choice  are  nothing  to  us,  the  grand  Point  on  which 
a  3  their 


xvi  INTRODUCTION. 

their  Arguments  turned,  every  one,  who  feels, 
knows  to  be  falfe  :  and  the  Pradice  of  the  Wifeft 
and  Bed  among  them,  proved  it  in  Fact  to  be  fo. 
It  is  remarkable,  that  no  Sed  of  Philofophers  ever 
fo  dogmatically  prefcrrbed,  or  fo  frequently  commit- 
ted, Suicide,  as  thofe  very  Stoics,  who-  taught  that 
the  Pains  and  Sufferings,  which  they  drove  to  end 
by  this  Adl  of  Rebellion  againfl  the  Decrees  of  Pro-^ 
vidence,  were  no  Evils.  How  abfolutely  this  hor- 
rid Pradice  contradicted  all  their  noble  Precepts  of 
Refignation  and  Submilfion  to  the  divine  Will,  is 
too  evident  to  need  any  Enlargement.  They  pro- 
fefled  indeed  in  Suicide  to  follow  the  divine  Will : 
but  t;his  was  a  lamentably  weak  Pretence.  Even 
fuppofing  Sufferings  to  be  Evils,  they  are  no  Proof 
of  a  Signal  from  God  to  abandon  Life  ;  but  to  fbow 
an  exemplary  Patience,  which  he  will  reward  :  but, 
fuppofing  them,  as  the  Stoics  did,  not  to  be  Evils^ 
they  afford  not  fo  much  as  the  Shadow  of  a  Proof. 

§.  27.  As  the  Stoics  by  the  Per  million  of  Suicide, 
plainly  implied,  that  external  Inconveniences  were 
not  indifferent  in  the  Extremity  ;  it  follows,  that 
they  miufl  proportionably  be  allowed  not  to  be  in- 
different in   the   inferior  Degrees :  ot  which  Zena 
Teemed  to  be  perfedly  well  convinced,  by  hanging 
himfelf  when   his  Finger  aked.     And  where  was 
the  Ufe  of  taking  fo  much  Pains  to  fay,  and  believe 
what  they  knew  to  be  falfe }     It  might,  perhaps,  be 
thought  to  be  of  fome  Benefit,  in  the  Time  of  the 
later  Stoics,  to  the  great  Men  of  Romey  whom  the 
Emperors  frequently  butchered  at  their  Pleafure  : 
and  this  is  the  Ufe,  to  which  Eri^etus  is  perpetui 
ally  applying  it.     Yet,  even  in  this  Cafe,  the  Stoic 
Dodrine,  where  Men  could  bring  themfelves  to  a<ft 
upon  it,  miade  them  abfurdly  rough,  as  appears  by 
the  Fiiilory  of  Hehidius  Prifcus :  and  hindered  the 
Good,  they  might  otherv/ife  have  done.     And,  if 
3  Man,  taught  thus  to  defpife  Tortures  and  Death, 
fhouid  happen  at  the  fame  time  to  be  wrong- head- 

ed, 


INTRODUCTION.  xvii 

cd,  for  which  he  had  no  fmall  Chance,  he  would, 
in  oneRefped,  be  a  more  terrible  wild  Beall,  than 
an  Enthirfiafl  of  any  other  Sed ;  as  he  would  not 
think  his  Sufferings  Evils :  though  in  another  he 
would  be  Icfs  fo,  as  he  would  not  hope  to  be  re- 
warded for  them  hereafter. 

^.  28.  The  Stoics  are  frequently,  and  juftly, 
charged  with  great  Arrogance  in  their  Difcourfes, 
and  even  in  their  Addrefles  to  God.  They  afiert 
however  the  Dodrine  of  Grace,  and  the  Duty  of 
Praife  and  Thankfgiving  for  the  divine  Alhflance 
in  moral  Improvements  {b).  But  there  doth  not, 
I  think,  appear  any  Inflance  of  a  Stoic,  or  perhaps 
any  other  Heathen  Philofopher,  addrefiing  his  Re- 
pentance to  God,  and  begging  Pardon  for  his  Fail- 
ings, or  dircding  his  Difciples  to  do  it.  Indeed 
nothing  can  excufe  their  Idolatry  of  human  Na- 
ture :  which  they  proudly,  and  inconfiflently  fup- 
pofed  perfedl  and  felf-fufficicnt.  Seneca  carried  the 
Matter  ib  far,  as  by  an  impious  Antithefis,  to  give 
his  wife  Man  the  Superiority  to  God  (c).  Epitletus 
indeed  was  attentive  enough  to  the  Voice  of  Con- 
fcience  to  own  himfelf  not  perfed  (d)  :  and  he 
fometimes  tells  his  Hearers,  that  they  cannot  be 
perfed  yet  (e).  But  even  He  at  other  times  informs 
them,  that  they  are  not  inferior  to  the  Gods  {f ). 
The  Stoical  Boafling  will,  however,  imply  lefs  of 
perfbnal  Arrogance,  if  we  can  (uppofe,  that  thofe 
Speeches,  which  fo  ill  become  human  Imperfedion, 
were  always  uttered,  as  perhaps  in  part  they  of- 
ten were,  in  the  Charader  of  their  Idol,  the  per- 
a  4  fedly 

(h)  B.  II.  c.  18.  §.  3,4.  B.  III.  c.  21.  p.  248  p.  331, 332. 
See  likewife  M  Jntoninus,   L.  I.  §.  17.  L.  IX.  §.  4.   L.   X  L 

(cj  Efl:  allquid,  quo  faplens  antecedat  Deum.  Hie  natura 
beneficio,  non  luo,  fapiens  eft  :  ecce  res  ma.2;na,  habere  Imbe* 
ciiliratem  hominis,  fecuritatem  Dei.     Sen.  Epi/f.  53. 

(J)  B.  IV.  c.  I.  §.  17.     B.  IV.  c   8.  p.  363. 

(e)  B.  I.e.  15.  p.  48.     B.  IV.  c.  12.  f  4. 

(/J  B.I.  c.  12.  p.  43. 


xviii         INTRODUCTION. 

fedly  wife  and  good  Man,  which  they  owned  to  be 
merely  an  ideal  Being  (^).  At  leafl,  it  may  be 
affirmed  with  Truth,  that  they  frequently  men- 
tion themfelves  with  Decency  and  Humility,  and 
with  an  exprefs  Confeffion  of  their  Deviation  frorn 
this  faultlefs  Exemplar. 

§.  29.  But  then  where  was  the  Ufe  of  their  far 
vourite  Dodrine,  ^that  a  wife  Man  mufl  always  be 
happy  ?  Might  not  a  Perfon,  determined  to  fol- 
low his  own  Inclinations,  very  reafbnably  objedt, 
"  What  is  that  to  me,  if  I  am  not,  or  to  anybody 
*^  elfe,  if  no  one  ever  was,  a  wife  Man  ?  But,  fiip- 
*'  pofe  I  were  one  •,  which  is  the  better  grounded 
*'  Argument  ?  Tcu  mufl  always  he  happy^  and 
*'  therefore  Externals  are  no  Evils:  or,  ^hefe 
*'  'Things  are  Evils ^  and  therefore  I  am  not  happy. 

«c  But  Epi5fetus  will  fay.  You  have  a  Re- 

*'  medy  :  the  Door  is  open ;  go,  with  great  good 
*'  Humour  and  Thankfulnefs,  and  hang  your- 
^'  felf :  and  there  will  be  an  End  of  your  Pain  and 

"  you  together. A  fine  Scheme  of  Happinefs 

"  indeed  !  and  much  to  be  thankful  for !  Why, 
*'  is  it  not  the  fhorter  and  merrier  Way,  inflead  of 

Undying  this  crabbed  Philofophy,  to  indulge  my- 

felf,  in  whatever  I  like,  as  long  as  I  can,  (it  may 
"  chance  to  be  a  good  while)  and  hang  myfelf 
*'  thankfully,  when  I  feel  Inconveniences  from 
*'  that  ?  The  Door  is  juft  as  open  in  one  Cafe,  as 
"  in   the   other ;    and  nothing   beyond  it,  either 

f-  pleafing  or  terrible  in  either." Such,  alas!  is 

the  Conclufion  too  commonly  drawn ;  and  fuch 
muil  be  the  Confequence  of  every  Doctrine,  not 
built  upon  folid  Foundations. 

§.  ^o.  Epi5fetus  often  lays  it  down  as  a  Maxim, 
that  it  is  impoilible  for  one  Perfon  to  be  in  Fault, 
and  another  to  be  the  Sufferer.     This,  on  the  Sup- 

pofitioi^ 

(g)  Qms  fap'cns  fit,  aut  fucrit,  nee  ipfos  Stoicos  foleie  di- 
cerc.     Cic.  Aca^.  L.  IV.  .  - 


^( 


INTRODUCTION.  xix 

pofition  of  a  future  State,  will  certainly  be  made 
true  at  lafl ;  but  in  the  Stoical  Senfe,  and  Syftem, 
is  an  abfolute  Extravagance.  Take  any  Perfon  of 
plain  Underflanding,  with  all  the  Feelings  of  Hu- 
manity about  him,  and  fee  whether  the  fubtleft 
Stoic  will  ever  be  able  to  convince  him,  that  while 
he  is  infulted,  opprefTed,  and  tortured,  he  doth  not 
Suffer,  See  what  Comfort  it  will  afford  him,  to  be 
told,  that,  if  he  fupports  his  Afflictions  and  ill 
Treatment  with  Fortitude  and  Patience,  Death  will 
fet  him  free,  and  then  he  and  his  Perlecutor  will  be 
equally  rewarded ;  will  equally  lofe  all  perfbnal  Ex- 
iftence,  and  return  to  the  Elements.  How  diffe- 
rent are  the  Confolations  propofed  by  Chriflianity, 
which  not  only  alTures  its  Difciples,  that  they  fhall 
reft  from  their  Labours  in  Death,  but  that  their 
Works  jhall  follow  them:  and,  by  allowing  them 
to  rejoice  in  Hope,  teaches  them  the  mod  effedliia! 
Way  of  becoming  patient  in  Tribulation. 

§.  gr.  The  Stoical  Dodlrine,  that  human  Souls 
are  literally  Parts  of  the  Deity,  was  equally  fhock- 
ing,  and  hurtfial :  as  it  fuppofed  Portions  of  his 
Being  to  be  wicked  and  miferable ;  and,  by  dc- 
bafmg  Mens  Ideas  of  the  divine  Dignity,  and  teach- 
ing them  to  think,  themfelves  eflfentially  as  good  as 
He,  nourifhed  in  their  Minds  an  irreligious  and  fa- 
tal Prefumption.  Far  differently  the  Chriflian  Syf- 
tem,  reprefents  Mankind,  not  as  a  Part  of  the  Ef- 
fence,  but  a  Work  of  the  Hand  of  God  :  as  created 
in  a  State  of  improveable  Virtue  and  Happinefs  : 
Fallen,  by  an  Abufe  of  Free  Will,  into  Sin,  Mife- 
ry,  and  Weaknefs  {h)  j  but  redeenr^ed  from  them 
by  an  Almighty  Saviour  ;  furnifhed  with  additional 
Knowledge  and  Strength;  commanded  to  ufe  their 
bed  Endeavours ;  made  fenfible,  at  the  fame  time, 
how  wretchedly  defedive  they  are  ;  yet  affured  of 

endlefs 

(h) CIto  nequitia  fubrepit:  virtus  difficIHs  inventu  eft, 

reftorem,  ducemqiie  defiderat.     Etiam   fine  magiflro  vidadif- 
cuntur.    Sen.  Natural,  ^eejl,  L.  III.c,  39. 


XX  INTRODUCTION. 

endlefs  Felicity  on  a  due  Exertion  of  them.  The 
Stoic  Philofophy  infults  human  Nature,  and  difcou- 
rages  all  our  Attempts,  by  enjoining  and  promifing^ 
a  Perfedlion  in  this  Life,  of  which  we  feel  ourfeives 
incapable.  The  Chriflian  Religion  (hows  Compaf- 
fion  to  our  Weaknefs,  by  prefcribing  tousonly  the 
pradicable  Talk  of  aiming  continually  at  further 
Improvements ;  and  animates  our  Endeavours, 
by  the  Promife  of  a  divine  Aid,  equal  to  every 
Trial. 

§.32.  Specifying  thus  the  Errors  and  Defedsof 
fo  celebrated  a  Syftem,  is  an  unpleafmg  Employ- 
inent :  but  in  an  Age,  fond  of  preferring  the 
Guelles  of  human  Sagacity  before  the  unerring  De- 
clarations of  God,  it  feemed  on  this  Occafion  ne- 
ceffary  to  obferve,  that  the  Chriftian  Morality  is 
agreeable  to  Reafbn  and  Nature  :  that  of  the  Stoics, 
for  the  mod  part,  founded  on  Notions,  intelligible 
to  Few ;  and  which  none  could  admit,  without 
Contradidion  to  their  own  Hearts.  They  reafoned, 
many  times,  admirably  well,  but  from  falfe  Princi- 
ples :  and  the  nobleft  of  their  pradical  Precepts, 
being  built  on  a  fandy  Bafis,  lay  at  the  Mercy  of 
every  ftrong  Temptation. 

§.  ^^.  Stoicifm  is  indeed,  in  many  Points  inferior 
to  the  Do<3:rine  of  Socrates :  which  did  not  teach, 
that  all  Externals  were  indifferent ;  which  did  teach 
a  future  State  of  Recompence  j  and,  agreeably  to 
that,  forbad  Suicide.  It  doth  not  belong  to  the 
prefent  Subjed  to  fliow,  how  much  even  this  beft 
Syftem  is  excelled  by  Chriftianity.  It  is  fufficient 
jufl  to  obferve,  that  the  Author  of  it  died  in  a  Pro- 
feilion,  which  he  had  always  made,  of  his  Belief  in 
the  popular  Deities,  whofe  Superilitions,  and  im- 
pure Worfhip  was  the  great  Source  of  Corruption 
in  the  Heathen  World  :  and  the  laft  Words  he 
uttered,  were  a  Diredion  to  his  Friend,  for  the 
performance  of  an  idolatrous  Ceremony.  This 
melancholy  Inft^nce  of  Ignorance  and  Error,  in  the 

G>oft 


INTRODUCTION.  xxi 

mofl  illuflrious  Charadler  for  Wifdom  and  Virtue, 
in  all  Heathen  Antiquity,  is  not  mentioned  as  a 
Reflexion  on  his  Memory,  but  as  a  Proof  of  human 
Weaknefs  in  general.  Whether  Reafon  could  have 
difcovered  the  great  Truths,  which  in  thefe  Days 
are  afcribed  to  it,  becaufe  now  fcen  fo  clearly  by 
the  Light  of  the  Golpel,  may  be  a  ^eftion  ;  but 
that  it  never  did,  is  an  undeniable  FaSf :  and  that 
is  enough  to  teach  us  Thankfulnefs  for  the  Blefling 
of  a  better  Information.  Socrates^  who  had,  of  alt 
Mankind,  the  faireft  Pretenfions  to  fet  up  for  an 
Inflrudtor  and  Reformer  of  the  World,  confefTed, 
that  he  knew  nothing,  referred  to  Tradition,  and 
acknowledged  the  Want  of  a  fuperior  Guide:  and 
there  is  a  remarkable  PalTage  in  Epitletus^  in  which 
he  reprefents  it,  as  the  Office  of  his  llipreme  God, 
or  of  One  deputed  by  Him,  to  appear  among  Man- 
kind, as  a  Teacher  and  Example  (g). 

§.  34.  Upon  the  whole,  the  feveral  Sedts  of  Hea- 
then Philofophy  ferve,  as  fo  many  ftriking  Inftan- 
ces  of  the  Imperfedion  of  human  W^ifdom  ;  and 
of  the  extreme  Need  of  a  divine  Alfiftance,  to  rec- 
tify the  Miflakes  of  depraved  Reafon,  and  to  re- 
place natural  Religion  on  its  true  Foundation.  The 
Stoics  every-where  teflify  the  nobleft  Zeal  for  Vir- 
tue, and  the  Honour  of  God  :  but  they  attempted 
to  eftablifh  them  on  Principles,  inconfiflent  with 
the  Nature  of  Man,  and  contradictory  to  Truth  and 
Experience.  By  a  dired  Confequence  of  thefe  Prin- 
ciples, they  were  liable  to  be  feduced,  and  in  Facl 
often  were  feduced,  into  Pride,  Hard- hearted nefs, 
and  the  laft  dreadful  Extremity  of  human  Guilt, 
Self-murder. 

§.  ^S'  B^^  however  indefenfible  the  Philofophy 
of  the  Stoics  in  feveral  Inftances  may  be,  it  appears 
to  have  been  of  very  important  Ufe,  in  the  Heathen 
World  :  and  they  are,  on  many  Accounts,  to  be 

confidere4 
(Z)  B.  IV.  c.  8.  §.  6. 


xxii  INTRODUCTION. 

confidered  in  a  very  refpedlable  Light.  Their 
Dodrine  of  Evidence  and  fixed  Principles,  was  an 
excellent  Prefervative  from  the  Mifchiefs,  that  might 
have  arifen  from  the  Scepticifm  of  the  Academics 
and  Pyrrhonifls,  if  unoppofed :  and  their  zealous 
Defence  of  a  particular  Providence,  a  valuable  An- 
tidote to  the  atheiftical  Scheme  of  Epicurus,  To 
this  may  be  added,  that  their  flrid  Notions  of  Vir- 
tue in  moft  Points,  (for  they  fadly  failed  in  fome) 
and  the  Lives  of  leveral  among  them,  muft  con- 
tribute a  good  deal  to  prefcrve  luxurious  States 
from  an  abfolutely  univerfal  Diflblutenefs ;  and  the 
Subjects  of  arbitrary  Government,  from  a  wretched 
and  contemptible  Pufilanimity. 

§.36.  Even  now,  their  Compofitions  may  be 
read  with  great  Advantage,  as  containing  excellent 
Rules  of  Self-government,  and  of  focial  behaviour ; 
of  a  noble  Reliance  on  the  Aid  and  Proted\ion  of 
Heaven,  and  of  a  perfed\  Refignation  and  Submif- 
fion  to  the  divine  Will :  Points,  which  are  treated 
with  great  Clearnefs,  and  with  admirable  Spirit,  in 
the  Leflbns  of  the  Stoics  ;  and  though  their  Direc- 
tions are  feldom  pradicable  on  their  Principles,  in 
trying  Cafes,  may  be  rendered  highly  ufeful  in  Su- 
bordination to  Chriftian  Reflexions. 

§.  37.  If,  among  thofe,  who  are  fo  unhappy  as 
to  remain  unconvinced  of  the  Truth  of  Chriftianity, 
any  are  prejudiced  againft  it  by  the  Influence  of  un- 
warrantable Inclinations :  fuch  Perfons  v/ill  find 
very  little  Advantage  in  rejedling  the  Dodlrines  of 
the  New  Teftament  for  thofe  of  the  Portico ;  un- 
Jefs  they  think  it  an  Advantage  to  be  laid  under  mo- 
ral Reftraints,  almofl  equal  to  thofe  of  the  Gof- 
pel,  while  they  are  deprived  of  its  Encouragements 
and  Supports.  Deviations  from  the  Rules  of  Sor 
briety,  Jufl:ice  and  Piety,  meet  with  fmall  Indul- 
gence in  the  Stoic  Writings :  and  they,  who  pro- 
fefs  to  admire  Epidetus,  unlefs  they  purfue  that 
feverely  virtupus  Condu(^  which  he  every -where 

pre- 


INTRODUCTION.         ^Wl 

prefcrlbes,  will  find  themfelves  treated  by  him, 
with  the  utmoft  Degree  of  Scorn  and  Contempt, 
An  immoral  Character  is  indeed,  more  or  lefs,  the 
Out-caft  of  all  Sedls  of  Philofophy  :  and  Se^ieca 
quotes  even  Epicurus,  to  prove  the  univerfal  Obli- 
gation of  a  virtuous  Life  (b).  Of  this  great  Truth, 
God  never  left  himfelf  without  Witnefs,  Perfons  of 
diftinguifhed  Talents  and  Opportunities  feem  to 
have  been  raifed,  from  time  to  time,  by  Provi- 
dence, to  check  the  Torrent  of  Corruption,  and  to 
preferve  the  Senfe  of  moral  Obligations  on  the 
Minds  of  the  Multitude,  to  whom  the  various  Oc- 
cupations of  Life  left  but  little  Leifure  to  form  De- 
dudjons  of  their  own.  But  then  they  wanted  a 
proper  Commiilion  to  enforce  their  Precepts :  they 
intermixed  with  therri,  through  falfe  Reafoning, 
many  grofs  Miflakes  ;  and  their  unavoidable  Igno- 
rance, in  feveral  important  Points,  entangled  them 
v/ith  Doubts,  which  eafily  degenerated  into  pernici- 
ous Errors. 

§.38.  If  there  are  others,  who  rejedl  Chriftianity, 
from  Motives  of  Diflike  to  its  peculiar  Doclrines : 
they  will  fcarcely  fail  of  entertaining  more  favoura- 
ble Impreilions  of  it,  if  they  can  be  prevailed  on, 
with  impartiality,  to  compare  the  holy  Scriptures, 
from  whence  alone  the  Chrillian  Religion  is  to  be 
learned,  with  the  Stoic  Writings-,  and  then  fairly 
to  confider,  whether  there  is  any  thing  to  be  met 
widi  in  the  Difcourfes  of  our  bleifed  Saviour,  in  the 
Writings,  of  his  Apoftles,  or  even  in  the  obfcurefl 
Parts  of  the  prophetic  Books,  by  which,  equitably 
interpreted,  either  their  Senfes,  or  their  Reafon  are 
contradidcd,  as  they  are  by  the  Paradoxes  of  thefc 

Philo^ 

(h)  Eo  libentius  Epicuri  egrcgia  cli<5la  comme;noro,  ut  iftis, 
qui  ad  ilia  confuglent,  fpe  mala  indudi,  qua  velamentum  feip- 
Ibs  fuorum  vitiorum  hablturos  exiftiniant,  probcm,  quocunque 
ierfnt,  honefte  elfe  vivendgm.  Se.^.  E/^iJ.  21.  It  was  haid 
indeed  to  reconcile  this  with'  fome  of  his  other  Doctrines. 


xxh        INTRODUCTION. 

Philofopbers :  and  if  not,  whether  Notices  from 
above,  of  Things,  in  which,  though  we  comprehend 
them  but  imperfe^Iy,  we  are  poUibly  much  more 
interefted,  than  at  prefent  we  difcern,  ought  not 
to  be  received  with  implicit  Veneration  ;  as  ufeful 
Exercifes  and  Trials  of  that  Duty,  which  finite 
Underftandings  owe  to  infinite  Wifdom. 

§.  39.  Antiquity  furni(hes  but  very  few  Particu- 
lars of  the  Life  of  EpUfe(us.  He  was  born  at  Hie- 
rapolt!^  a  City  of  Pbrygia  :  but  of  what  Parents,  is 
unknown  ;  as  well  as  by  what  Means  he  came  to 
Rome^  where  he  was  the  Slave  of  Epaphrodiim^  one 
of  Nero's  Courtiers  (/).  It  is  reported,  that  when 
his  Mafter  once  put  his  Leg  to  the  Torture,  Epk^ 
tetus^  with  great  Compofure,  and  even  fmiling,  ob- 
ferved  to  him ;  '^  You  will  certainly  break  my 
*^  Leg :"  which   accordingly  happened  ;    and   he 

continued,  in  the  fame  Tone  of  Voice "  Did 

•'  not  I  tell  you,  that  you  would  break  it  (k)  ?*' 
This  Accident  might,  perhaps,  be  the  Occafion  of 
his  Lamencfs :  which,  however,  fome  Authors  fay 
he  had  from  hrs  early  Years  (/) ;  and  others  attri- 
bute to  the  Rheumatifm  {ni).  At  what  Time  he 
obtained  his  Liberty  doth  not  appear.  When  the 
Philofbphers,  by  a  Decree  of  Domitiaity  were  ba- 
nifhed  from  Rome^  Epi^ietiis  retired  to  Nicopolis  (n)y 
a  City  of  Epirusy  where  he  taught  Philof  )phy  \ 
from  which  he  doth  not  fecm  to  have  derived  any 
external  Advantages,  as  he  is  univerfally  faid  to 
have  been  extremely  poor.  At  leafi,  he  was  fo 
when  he  lived  at  Rome  :  where  his  whole  Furniture 
confifled  of  a  Bed  (^),  a  Pipkin,  and  an  Earthen 
Lamp  (p)  J  which  lall  was  purchafed  for  about  a 

hundred 

{/)  SuTDAS  In  Voc. 

(kj  OiuG.  contraCELs.  L  VII.  §-  53. 

(I)  SuiDAS  in  Voc. 

(mj  SiMPLic.  Com.  p.  102. 

(nj  A.  Cell.  L.  XV.  c.  11.    < 

(o)  SiMPLtc.  Com.  p.  io2t 

U>)  Id.  lb. 


INTRODUCTION.  xxv 

hundred  Pounds  after  his  Death,  by  a  Perfon  whom 
Lucian  ridicules  for  it,  as  hoping  to  acquire  the 
Wifdom  of  EpiEietus  by  fludying  over  it.  His 
only  Attendant  was  a  Woman,  whom  he  took  in 
his  advanced  Years,  to  nurfe  a  Child,  whom,  other- 
wife,  one  of  his  Friends  would  have  expofed  to  pe- 
rifh  (q) :  an  amiable  Proof  of  the  poor  old  Man's> 
Good-nature,  and  Difapprobation,  it  is  to  be  hop- 
ed, of  that  fhocking,  yet  common  Inftance  of  Hea- 
then Blindnefs  and  Barbarity. 

In  this  extreme  Poverty,  a  Cripple,  unattended, 
and  dellitute  of  aimoft  every  Convenience  of  Life, 
EpiBetus  was  not  only  obliged  by  the  Rules  of  his 
Philofophy  to  think  himfelf  happy,  but  adlually  did 
fo,  according  to  the  Diftich  of  which  /lulus  Gellius 
affirms  him  to  have  been  the  iVuthor  (r). 

yfSIave^  in  Body  maimed,  as  Irus  (s)  poor ; 
7}t  to  the  Gods  was  Epidetus  dear. 

He  is  faid  to  have  returned  to  Rome  in  the  Reiga 
of  /drian^  and  to  have  been  treated  by  him 
with  a  high  Degree  of  Familiarity  (/).  If  this  be 
true,  he  lived  to  a  great  Age.  But  that  he  fhould 
continue  alive,  to  the  Time  of  M.  Antoninus^  as 
nemiftius  («),  and  Suidas  (w)  affirm,  is  utterly 
improbable  (;f),  as  the  learned  Fahicius  oblerves; 
to  whofe  Life  of  Epidetus  (y)  1  am  greatly  indebted. 
When,  or  where,  he  died,  is,  I  think,  no- where 
mentioned.     All  Authors  agree  in  bearing  Teftimo- 

ny 

[q]  Id.  p.  27  2. 

(r)  A.  Gellius,  L  II.  c.  i  8 
(/)  The  Name  of  a  Beggar  in  Homer, 
it)  .^Lii.  Spart.  Adrian,  c.  17. 
(«)  Orat.  Conf.  ad  jf avian.  Imp. 
(it;)  In  Voc. 

(x)  The  Reign  of  Ntro  began  ^.  D.  ^4.  of  Adrian,  1 1.7.  of 
M.  Antoninus,   16 1. 

(j)  BihL  Gr.  Vol.  III.  p.  257. 


XXVI         INTRODUCTION. 

ny  to  the  unblemifhed  Condud  of  his  Life,  and  the 
Ufefulnefs  of  his  Inftrudions.  The  laft-named 
Emperor  exprefies  much  Obligation  to  a  Friend, 
who  had  communicated  his  Works  to  him  (z) :  and 
in  another  Place,  he  ranks  him,  not  only  with 
Chryftppus^  but  with  SocrrJes  {a).  A.  Gellius  calls 
him  the  greateil  of  the  Stoics  (b)  :  Origen  affirms, 
tliat  his  Writings  had  done  more  Good  than  Pla- 
to's (c)  :  And  Stmplicius  fays,  perhaps  by  way  of  in- 
dired  Oppoiition  to  an  infinitely  better  Book,  that 
he  who  is  not  influenced  by  them,  is  reclaimable  by 
nothing  but  the  Chaftifements  of  another  World  id). 
In  what  manner  he  inftructed  his  Pupils,  will  be 
feen  in  the  following  Treatife 

§.  40.  There  are  fo  many  of  the  Sentiments  and 
ExpreHions  of  Chriflianity  in  it,  that  one  fhould  be 
flrongly  tempted  to  think,  that  Epi5letus  was  ac- 
quainted with  the  New  Tellament,  if  fuch  a  Suppo- 
fition  was  not  highly  injurious  to  his  Charader.  To 
have  known  the  Contents  of  that  Book,  and  not  to 
have  been  led  by  them  into  an  Enquiry,  which  muft 
have  convinced  him  of  their  Truth,  would  argue 
fuch  an  Obflinacy  of  Prejudice,  as  one  would  not 
willingly  impute  to  a  Mind,  which  appears  fo  well 
difpofed.  And,  even  pafling  over  this  Confidera- 
tion,  to  have  borrowed  fo  much  from  Chriflianity 
as  he  feems  to  have  done,  without  making  the  leaft 
Acknowlegement  from  whence  he  received  it, 
would  be  an  Inflance  of  Diftngenuity,  utterly  unwor- 
thy of  an  honefl  Man,  and  inconfillent  with  his 
Pradice  in  other  Refpeds  :  for  he  often  quotes, 
with  great  Applaufe,  the  Sentences  of  many  Writ- 
ers, not  of  his  own  Sed.  Poliibly  indeed  he  might, 
like  the  other  Heathens  in  general,  have  a  peculiar 

Con- 

W  L.  I.  §.  7. 

{a)  L.  VII.  §.19. 

(h)  Noa.  Att.  L.  r.  c.  2. 

(c)  Contra  G^  L.  Vl.  S.z. 

{d)  Com.  p.  2.  " 


INTRODUCTION.         xxvii 

Contempt  of,  and  Averfion  to,  Chrillian  Autliors, 
as  akin  to  the  Jews^  and  Oppofers  of  the  ellablifhed 
Worfhip,    notwithflanding  thofe  Parts  of  them, 
which  he  mufl  approve.     But  Hill  I  hope,  his  Con- 
formity with  the  facred  Writings  may  be  accounted 
for,  without  fuppofmg  him  acquainted  with  Chri- 
flianity,  as  fuch.     The  great  Number  of  its  Profef^ 
fbrs,  difperfed  through  the  Roman  Empire,  had  pro- 
bably introduced   feveral  of  the   New  Tetlament 
Phrafes  into  the  popular  Language  :  and  the  Chri- 
flian  Religion  might  by  that  Time  have  diffufed 
fome  Degree  of  general  Illumination  ;    of  which 
many  might  receive  the  Benefit,  who  were  ignorant 
of  the  Source,  from  whence  it  proceeded  :  and  Epic- 
tetus  I  apprehend  to   have  been  of  this  Number. 
Several  (Iriking  Inftances  of  this  Refemblance  be- 
tween him  and  the  New  Teftament,  have  been 
obferved  in   the  Notes ;  and  the  attentive  Reader 
will  find  many,  which   are  not  mentioned ;  and 
may  perceive  from   them,  either  that  the  Stoics 
admired   the    Chriftian  Language,  however  they 
came  to  the  Knowledge  of  it ;  or  that  treating  a 
Subjecl  pradically,  and  with  a  Feeling  of  its  Fore;?, 
leads  Men  to  fiich  ilrong  Expreflions,  as  we  find  iu 
Scripture,  and  fhould  find  oftener  in  the  Philofo- 
phers,  if  they  had  been  more  in  earnefh :  but  how- 
ever, they  occur  frequently  enough    to  vindicate 
thoie,  in  which  the  Scriptures  abound,  from  the 
Contempt  and  Ridicule  of  light  Minds. 

§.  41.  Arriajj^  the  Difciple  of  Ejii5fetus^  to  v/hbm 
we  are  obliged  for  thefe  Difcourfes,  was  a  Greek  by 
Birth,  but  a  Senator  and  Conful  o^  Rome ;  and  an  able 
Commander  in  War  {m).  He  imitated  XenGphon^hoxh 
in  his  Life  and  Writings ;  and  particularly,  in  deliver- 
ing toPoflerity  the  Converfations  of  his  Mafter.  There 
were  originally  Twenty  Books  of  then,  befides  the 
Enchiridmi^  which  feems  to  be  taken  out  of  them, 

b  and 

(m)  Fabricii  Bill  Gr.  Vol.  III.  L.  IV.  c.  8>  p.  269,  ^'r. 


^xv\'n         INTRODUCTION. 

and  an  Account  of  his  Life  and  Death.  Very  little 
Order  or  Method  is  to  be  found  in  them,  or  was 
From  the  Nature  of  them  to  be  expeded  The 
Connexion  is  often  fcarcely  difcoverable :  a  Refe- 
rence to  particular  Incidents,  long  fince  forgotten, 
at  the  fame  time  that  it  evidences  their  Genuinenefs, 
often  renders  them  obfcure  in  fome  Places ;  and  the 
great  Corruption  of  the  Text,  in  others.  Yet, 
under  all  thefe  Di  fad  vantages,  this  im  methodical 
Colledion  is  perhaps  one  of  the  mofh  valuable  Re- 
mains of  Antiquity  ;  and  they,  who  confult  it  with 
any  Degree  of  Attention,  can  fcarcely  fail  of  re- 
ceiving Improvement.  Indeed  it  is  hardly  pofTible 
to  be  inattentive  to  fo  awakening  a  Speaker  as  EpiC" 
tetus.  There  is  fuch  a  Warm.th  and  Spirit  in  hjs 
Exhortations ;  and  his  good  Senfe  is  enlivened  by 
fuch  a  Keennefs  of  Wit,  and  Gaiety  of  Humour, 
as  render  the  Study  of  him,  a  mod  delightful  as 
well  as  profitable  Entertainment. 

§.  42.  For  this  Reafon  it  was  judged  proper,  that 
a  Tranflation  of  him  fhould  be  undertaken  \  there 
being  none,  I  believe,  but  of  the  Enchiridion^  in 
any  modern  Language,  excepting  a  pretty  good 
French  one,  publifhed  about  a  hundred  and  fifty 
Years  ago,  and  fo  extremely  fcarce,  that  I  was  un- 
able to  procure  it,  till  Mr.  Harris  obligingly  lent  it 
me,  after  I  had  publifhed  the  Propofals  for  printr 
ing  this  :  which,  notwithftanding  the  AfTiftance 
given  me  in  the  Profecution  of  it,  hath  ilill,  I  am 
lenfible,  great  Faults.  But  they,  who  will  fee 
them  the  mofl  clearly,  will  be  the  readiefl  to  ex- 
cufe,  as  they  will  know  befl  the  Difficulty  of  avoid- 
ing them.  There  is  one  Circumflance,  which,  I 
am  apprehenfive,  mufl  be  particularly  flriking, 
and  poflibly  fhocking  to  many,  the  frequent  Ufe 
of  fome  Words  in  an  unpopular  Senfe :  an  Incon- 
venience, which,  however,  I  flatter  myfelf,  the 
Introduition  and  Notes  will,  in  fome  Degree,  re- 
move.    In  the  Tranflation  of  technical  Terms,  if 

the 


INTRODUCTION.  xxix 

the  fame  Greek  Word  had  not  always  been  rendered 
in  the  fame  manner,  at  lead,  when  the  Propriety 
of  our  Language  will  at  all  permit  it,  every  new 
Exprellion  would  have  been  apt  to  raife  a  new  Idea. 
The  Reader,  I  hope,  will  pardon,  if  not  approve, 
the  Uncouthnefs,  in  many  Places,  of  a  Tranilation 
pretty  flridly  literal :  as  it  feemed  neceffary,  upon 
the  whole,  to  preferve  the  original  Spirit,  the  pecu- 
liar Turn  and  charadteriflic  Roughnefs  of  the  Au- 
thor. For  elfe,  taking  greater  Liberties  would  have 
ipared  me  no  fmall  Pains. 

I  have  been  much  indebted  to  Mr.  Uptons  Edi- 
tion :  by  which,  many  PafTages,  unintelligible  be- 
fore, are  cleared  up.  His  Emendations  have  often 
alfifted  me  in  the  Text  •,  and  his  References  fur- 
nilhed  me  with  Materials  for  the  Hiftorical  Notes. 


b  2  TABLE 


TABLE  ofCONTENTS. 


INTRODUCTION.    By  the  Tranflator  Page  i 
Table  of  Contents  ---  —       xxxi 

Arrian  to  Lucius  Gellius  —  xxxvii 

BOOK     I. 

Chap.  I.  Of  the  Things  which  are,  and  of  thofe  which 
are  not,  in  our  own  Power  —  i 

Chap.  II.  In  what  Manner,  upon  every  Occajion,  to 
preferve  our  Character  —         —         6 

Chap.  III.  How,  from  the  DoHrine  that  God  is  the 
Father  of  Mankind,  we  may  proceed  to  its  Confe- 
quences  —  —  _        n 

Chap.  IV.    Of  Improvement         ■  12 

Chap.  V.  Concerning  the  Academics         —  17 

Chap.  VI.  Of  Providence  —         —      18 

Chap.  VII.  Of  the  life  of  convertible  and  hypothetical 
Propofittons,  and  the  like  —         —        23 

Chap.  VIII.  That  Faculties  are  not  fafe  to  the  Unin' 
firu^rd         —  —  —  27 

Chap.  IX.  How,  from  the  Do^rine  of  our  Kindred  to 
God,  we  are  to  proceed  to  its  Confequences  29 

Chap.  X.  Concerning  Thofe,  who  ftrov^  for  Prefer- 
ment at  B.orat  —  —  -^^ 

C\mp.  XL  Of  Natural  Affection         35 

Chap.  XII.  Of  Contentment         —  —        40 

Chap.  Xin.  Hoiv  every  Thing  may  h  informed  ac- 
ceptably to  the  Gods  ™  —        44 
b  3  Chap. 


xxxii  CONTENTS. 

Chap.  XIV.  nat  all  Things  are  under  the  dhine  In- 
fpeaion  —  —  —      Page  45 

Chap.  XV.  What  it  is  that  Philofophy  promifes    47 
Chap.  XVI.  Of  Providence  —  4^ 

Chap.  XVII.  That  the  Art  of  Reafoning  is  necejjfary 

Chap.  XVIII.  That  we  are  not  to  he  angry  with  the 

Errors  of  others  —  —         —     54 

Chap.  XIX.  Of  the  Behaviour  to  he  obferved  towards 

Tyrants  —  —  —         58 

Chap.  XX.  In  what  Manner  Reafon  contemplates  it- 

felf    ^        —  6x 

Chap.  XXI.  Of  the  Beftre  of  Admiration  63 

Chap.  XXII.  Of  P re-conceptions         >  64 

Chap.  XXII I.  Againft  Epicurus  67 

Chap.  XXIV.  How  we  are  to  firuggle  with  Difficul- 
ties —  68 

Chap.  XXV.  On  the  fame  Subje£i  -'  7 1 

Chap.  XXVI.  IVhat  the  Law  of  Life  is  75 

Chap.  XXVII.  Of  the  fever al  Appearances    to  the 

Mind  \  and  what  Remedies  are  to  be  provided  for 

them  ■ yy 

Chap.  XX  VI II.  That  we  are  not  to  he  angry  with  Man- 
kind,    fVhat  Things  are  little^  what  greaty  among 

Men  ^ 80 

Chap.  XXIX.  0///2/r^/^/V//y  —  84 

Chap.  XXX.  What  we  ought  to  have  ready ^  in  diffi- 
cult Circumjiances  —  —  9j 

BOOK      II. 

Chap,  I.  That  Courage  is  not  inconfiflent  with  Caution 

95 

Chap.  II.  Of  Tranquillity  —  —    102 

Chap.  III.  Concerning  fuch  as  recommend  Perfons  to 
the  Philofophers  ^—  —  1 05 

Chap.  IV.  Concerning  a  P  erf  on  who  had  been  guilty  of 
Adultery  — .'  —  106 

Chap,  V.  How  AA^gnanimity  may  he  conjiftent  with 
Care  —  —  — '  107 

Chap. 


CONTENTS.  xxxiii 

Chap.  VI.  Of  Indifference             —  Page  i  c  i 
Chap.  VII.  Of  Divination            —          —       115 
Chap.  VIII.  fV herein  conftfls  the  Effeme  of  Good  1 1 7 
Chap.  IX.  fhat  when  we  are  unable  to  fulfil  what  the 
Chara5ler  of  a  Man  promifes^  we  ajfume  that  of  a 
Fbilofopher              —                 —  121 
Chap.  X.  How  we  may  inveftigate  the  Duties  cf  Life 
from  the  Names^  which  we  bear          —          124 
Chap.  XI.  What  the  Beginning  of  Philofophy  is     127 
Ch2Lp.  XU.  Of  Difpufation             —         —     130 
Ch^p.  XUl  Of  Solicitude            —            —   133 
Chap.  XIV.  Concerning  Naib                 —           13S 
Chap.  XV.  Concerning  Thofe^  who  ohJHnately  perfe- 
vere  in  what  they  have  determined             —     1 42 
Chap.  XVI.  ^hat  we  do  not  ftudy  to  make  ufe  of  the 
Principles  concerning  Good  and  Evil                  1 4^ 
Chap.  XVII.  How  to  adapt  Pre  conceptions  to  parti- 
cular Cafes             —             1 5 1 

Chap.  XVIII.  How  the  Appearances  of  Things  are  to 
ke  combated  —  —  \  ^^ 

Chap.  XIX.  Concerning  Thofe^  who  embrace  Philofo- 
phy only  in  Words  —  —  1(0 
Chap.  XX.  Concerning  the  Epicureans,  and  Acade- 
mics                —                 —             —        166 
Chap.  XXI.  Of  Inconftjiency            —        —  172 
Chap.  XXII.  Of  Friendjhip            —                175 
Chap.  XX 1 1 1 .  Of  the  Faculty  of  Speaking            1 8 1 
Chap.  XXIV.  Concerning  a  Perjon^  whom  he  treated 
with  Difregard                 —              —              18S 
Chap.  XXV.  That  Logic  is  neceffary                    192 
Chap.  XXVI.  What  is  the  Property  of  Errors  in  Life 

BOOK      III. 

Chap.  I.  Of  Finery  in  Drefs  —  195 

Chap.  \\.  In  what  a  Proficient  ought  to  he  exercifed : 

and  that  we  negle^  the  principal  Things  20 :? 

Chap.  III.  fVhat  is  the  Suhjeff -matter  to  a  good  Man  ^ 

and  in  what  we  chiefly  ought  to  he  Practitioners  206. 
b  4  Chap. 


5cxxiv  CONTENTS. 

Chap.  IV.  Concerning  one^  who  exerted  himfelf  with 

indecent  Eager nefs  in  the  Theatre  Page  209 

Chap.  V.  Concerning  thoje  who  pretend  Sicknefs,  as 

an  Excufe,  to  return  Home  —         —      211 

Chap.  VI.  Mifcellaneous  —  —     213 

Chap.  VII.  Concerning  a  Governor  of  the  Free  States^ 

who  was  an  Epicurean  —  2 1 5 

Chap.  VIII.  How  we  are  to  exercife  our/elves  againjl 

the  Appear ances  of  Things  219 

Chap.  IX.   Concerning  a  certain   Orator^  who  was 

going  to  Rome  on  a  haw  Suit  221 

Chap.  X.  In  what  Manner  we  ought  to  hear  Sicknefs 

224 
Chap.  XI.  Mifcellaneous  —  —      227 

Chap.  XII.  Ofafcetic  Exercife  228 

Chap.  XIII.  IVhat  Solitude  is,  and  what  afolitary 

Per  Jon  —  —  231 

Chap.  XIV,  Mifcellaneous         •—  —       0.0,^ 

Chap.  XV.  That  every  Thing  is  to  be  undertaken  with 

Circumfpeclion  —  —  2}6 

Chap.  XVI.  That  Caution  is  neceffary  in  Condejcenfton 

and  Complaifance  —  238 

Chap.  XVII.  Of  Providence  240 

Chap.  XVIII.  That  we  ought  not  to  he  ai armed  by  any 

JNews  that  is  brought  us  —  242 

Chap.  XIX.  What  is  the  Condition  of  the  Vulgar : 

and  what  of  a  Philofopher  243 

Chap.  XX.  That  feme  Advantage  may  be  gained  from 

every  external  Circumflance  244 

Chap.  XXI.  Concerning  thofe,  who  readily  fet  up  for 

Sophifts  —  —  247 

Chap.  XXII.  Of  the  Cynic  Philofophy  250 

Chap.  XXIII.  Concerning  Juch  as  read^  anddifpute^ 

ojien.'atioufly  —  —  268 

Chap.  XXiV.  That  we  ought  not  to  be  affe£fedby 

Things  not  in  our  own  Power  274 

Chap.  XXV.  Concerning  Thofe^  who  deffi  from  their 

Purpofe  —  —  291 

Chap. 


CONTENTS.  XXXV 

Chap.  XXVI.  Concerning  T.hofe^  who  are  in  Dread 

of  Want  —  ^^Z^'^^l 

BOOK     IV. 

Chap.  I.  Of  Freedom  ^oi 

Chap.  II.  Of  Complaifance  327 

Chap.  III.  What  Ihings  are  to  he  eocchanged  for  others 

328 

Chap.  IV.  Concerning  Ihofe^  who  earneftly  dejire  a 

Life  of  Repofe  330 

Chap.  V.  Concerning  the  §^arrelfome^  and  Ferocious 

Chap.  VI.  Concerning  Thofe^  who  grieve  at  being  pi- 
tied 344 
Chap.  VII.  Of  Fearleffnefs  350 
Chap.  VIII.  Concerning  fuch^  as  haftily  run  into  the 
philojOphic  Drefs  3^^ 
Chap.  IX.  Concerning  a  Perfon^   who  was  grown 
immoded  353 
Chap.  X.  What  Things  we  are  to  defpije^  and  on  what 
to  place  a  diftinguijhed  Value                             ^66 
Chap.  XL  Of  Purity  and  Ckanlinefs                  372 
Chap.  XII.  Of  Attention                                    3  y  7 
Chap.  XIII.  Concerning  Such^  as  readily  difcover  their 
own  Affairs                                                      33q 

The  EnC  H  I  R  I  D  ION  Qi^c 

Fragments  a  17 

Index. 

Appendix. 


[  xxxvii  ] 


A   R   R  I   A   N 

T  O 

LUCIUS  GELLIUS 

Wiflieth  all  Happinefs. 


I  Ne  IT  HER  compofed  the  Difcourfes  of  EpiSfetus 
in  fuch  a  manner,  as  Things  of  this  Nature  arc 
commonly  compofed :  nor  did  I  myfelf  produce 
them  to  public  View,  any  more  than  I  compofed 
them.  But  whatever  Sentiments  I  heard  from  his 
own  Mouth,  the  very  fame  I  endeavoured  to  let 
down  in  the  very  fame  Words,  ^s  far  as  poffible, 
and  preferve  as  Memorials  for  my  own  Ufe,  of  his 
Manner  of  Thinking,  and  Freedom  of  Speech. 

These  Difcourfes  are  fuch  as  one  Perfon  would 
naturally  deliver  from  his  own  Thoughts,  extempore, 
to  another  -,  not  fuch  as  he  v/ouid  prepare  to  be 
read  by  Numbers  afterwards.  Yet,  notwithftand- 
ing  this,  I  cannot  tell  how,  without  either  my  Confent 
or  Knowledge,  they  have  fallen  into  the  Hands  of 
the  Public.  But  it  is  of  little  Confequence  to  me, 
if  I  do  not  appear  an  able  Writer  \  and  of  none  to 
EpiSfetus^  if  any  one  treats  his  Difcourfes  {a)  with 

Con- 

(a)  His  means  the  Compofitlon,  not  the  Subjsdt-matter  of 
them. 


Arrian/^?  Lucius  Gellius. 

Contempt  -,  fince  it  was  very  evident,  even  when 
he  uttered  them,  that  he  aimed  at  nothing  more 
than  to  excite  his  Hearers  to  Virtue.  If  they  pro- 
duce that  one  Effed,  they  have  in  them  what,  I 
think,  philofophical  Difcourfes  ought  to  have.  And 
fhould  they  fail  of  it,  let  the  Readers,  however, 
be  aflured,  that  when  Epi^fetus  himfelf  pronounced 
them,  his  Audience  could  not  help  being  affeded 
in  the  very  Manner  he  intended  they  fhould.  If 
by  themfelves  they  have  lefs  Efficacy,  perhaps  it  is  ^ 
my  Fault,  or  perhaps  it  is  unavoidable. 

Farewell. 


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THE 


THE 


DISCOURSES 

O  F 

E  P  ICt  ETUS. 


BOOK    L 


CHAPTER    I. 

Of  the  Things  which  are^  and  of  thofe  which  are  not^ 
in  our  own  Power. 

[F  other  Faculties,  you  will  find 
no  one  that  contemplates,  or 
confequently  approves  or  di {ap- 
proves, itfelf.  How  far  does 
the  contemplative  Power  of 
Grammar  extend  ? 

As  far  as  the  Judging  of  Language. 

Of  Mufic  ? 

As  far  as  Judging  of  Melody. 

Does  either  of  them  contemplate  itfelf,  then  ? 
B  By 


2  ne  Discourses  of        Book  I, 

By  no  means. 

Thus,  for  Inflance,  when  you  are  to  write  to  your 
Friend,  Grammar  will  tell  you  what  to  write  :  but 
whether  you  are  to  write  to  your  Friend  at  all,  or 
no.  Grammar  will  not  tell  you.  Thus  Mufic,  with 
regard  to  Tunes  :  but  whether  it  be  proper  or  im- 
proper^  at  any  particular  Time,  to  fmg  or 'play, 
Mufic  will  not  tell  you. 

What  will  tell,  then  } 

That  which  contemplates  both  itfelf  and  all 
other  Things. 

And  what  is  that .? 

The  reafoning  Faculty  :  for  that  alone  is  found  to 
confider  both  itfelf,  its  Powers,  its  Value,  and  like- 
wife  all  the  refl.  For  what  is  it  elfe  that  fays  Gold 
is  beautiful  ?  (for  the  Gold  itfelf  does  not  fpeak^ 
Evidently  that  Faculty,  which  judges  of  the  Ap- 
pearances of  Things  {a).  What  elfe  diftinguifhes 
Mufic,  Grammar,  the  other  Faculties,  proves  their 
ufes,  and  ftiows  their  proper  Occafions  ? 

Nothing  but  this. 

§.  2.  As  it  was  fit  then,  this  mofl  excellent  and 
fuperior  Faculty  alone,  a  right  Ufe  of  the  Appear-- 
ances  of  Things,  the  Gods  have  placed  in  our  own 
Power ;  but  all  other  Matters,  not  in  our  Power. 
Was  it  becaufe  they  would  not .?  I  rather  think, 
that  if  they  could,  they  had  granted  us  thefe  too: 
but  they  certainly  could  not.  For,  placed  upon 
Earth,  and  confined  to  fuch  a  Body,  and  to  fuch 
Companions,  how  was  it  poiTible  that,  in  thefe 
Refpedls,  we  fliould  not  be  hindered  by  Things 
without  us  } 

§.  3.  But  what  fays  Jupiter  ?  ''  O  Epi6tetus^  if 
*'  it  were  poflible,  I  had  made  this  little  Body 
"  and  Property  of  thine  free,  and  not  liable  to 
*'  Hindrance.  But  now  do  not  miflake  :  it  is 
**  not  thy    own,     but  only  a    finer  Mixture   of 

"  Clay. 

(tf)  See  Introdudion,  §.  7, 


<t 


Chap.  1.        EPICTETUS  5 

"^  Clay  {b).  Since,  then,  I  could  not  {c)  give  thee 
**  this,  I  have  given  thee  a  certain  Portion  of  my- 
*'  felf  :  this  Faculty  of  exerting  the  Powers  of  Pur- 
*'  fuit  and  Avoidance  (^),  of  Defire  and  Averfion  ; 

and,  in  a  Word,  the  Ufe  of  the  Appearances  of 
"  Things.  Taking  Care  of  this  Point,  and  making 
*'  what  is  thy  own  to  confift  in  this,  thou  wilt  ne^ 
*'  ver  be  reflrained,  never  be  hindered ;  thou  wilt 
.*'  not  groan,  wilt  not  complain,  wilt  not  flatter 
*'  any  one.  How  then  !  Do  all  thefe  Advantages 
*'  feem  fmall  to  thee  }  Heaven  forbid  !  Let  them 
*'  fuffice  thee  then,  and  thank  the  Gods." 

§.  4.  But  now,  when  it  is  in  our  Power  to  take 
Care  of  one  Thing,  and  to  apply  to  one^  we  chufe 
rather  to  take  Care  oi  ^rnany^  and  to  incumber  our- 
felves  with  many  ;  Body,  Property,  Brother,  Friend, 
Child,  and  Slave  \  and,  by  this  Multiplicity  of  In- 
cumbrances, we  are  burdened  and  weighed  down. 
Thus,  when  the  Weather  doth  not  happen  to  be 
fair  for  failing,  we  fit  fcrewing  ourfelves,  and  per- 
petually looking  out. — Which  Way  is  the  Wind  ? 
■ — North. — What  have  we  to  do  with  that  } — • 
When  will  the  Weft  blow  } — When  itfelf.  Friend, 
or  /Eolus  pleafes  \  for  Jupiter  has  not  made  Ton 
Difpenfer  of  the  Winds,  but  Molus, 

§.  5.  What  then  is  to  be  done  ? 

To  make  the  beft  of  what  is  in  our  Power,  and 
take  the  reft  as  it  naturally  happens. 

And  how  is  that } 

As  it  pleafes  God. 

What,  then,  muft  /  be  the  only  one  to  lofe 
my  Head  .^ 

B  %  Why, 

{h)  The  Sacred  Writers  alfo  mention  Man  as  made  of  Clay» 
Gen.  ii.  7.  Joh  x.  9.  xxxiii.  6.  H<rt;  ^aCt;*' yijv  73r>;/\ov,  VK'Ka.da,^ 
^wov,  xxxviii.  14. 

[c)  One  would  hope,  from  the  Context,  that  Epiaetus  is  here 
fpeaking  only  of  a  moral,  not  a  natural  Impollibility  ;  an  Im- 
poffibiiity  aiiling  merely  frort  the  prefent  Conilitution  of  Things . 
See  Introduction,  §.  17.     See  likewife  B.  II.  chap.  v.  §.5. 

{d)  See  Introduction,  §.  5. 


4  The  Discourses  of        Book  IJ 

Why,  would  you  have  all  the  World,  then,  lofe 
their  Heads  for  your  Confolation  ?  Why  are  not 
you  willing  to  ftretch  out  your  Neck,  like  Latera- 
nus  (^),  when  he  was  commanded  by  Nero  to  be 
beheaded  ?  For,  (hrinking  a  little,  after  receiving 
a  weak  Blow,  he  (Iretched  it  out  again.  And  be- 
fore this,  when  Epaphroditus  (f)^  the  Freedman  of 
Nero,  interrogated  him  about  the  Confpiracy  ;  ''  If 
*'  I  have  a  Mind  to  fay  any  thing,  replied  he,  I 
*'  will  tell  it  to  your  Mafter." 

§.  6.  What  then  fhould  we  have  at  hand  upon 
fuch  Occafions  ?  Why  what  elfe  but — what  is  miney 
and  what  not  mine -^  what  is  permitted  me,  and 
what  not. — I  muft  die  :  and  mufl  I  die  groaning 
too  ?  — Be  fetter'd.  Muft  it  be  lamenting  too  ? — 
Exiled.  And  what  hinders  me,  then,  but  that  I 
may  go  fmiling,  and  chearful,  and  ferene  ?— 
"  Betray  a  fec'ret" — I  will  not  betray  it  ;  for  this 
is  in  my  own  Power. — *'  Then  I  will  fetter  you.'* 
— What  do  you  fay,  Man  ?  Fetter  me  ?  You  will 
fetter  my  Leg  ;  but  not  Jupiter  himfelf  can  get 
the  better  of  my  Choice  (g).  "  I  will  throw  you 
*'  into  Prifbn  :  I  will  behead  that  paltry  Body  of 
*'  yours."  Did  I  ever  tell  you,  that  I  alone  had 
a  Head  not  liable  to  be  cut  off?'  •  Thefe 
Things  ought  Philofbphers  to  fludy  •,   thefe  ought 

they 

{e)  P/autius  Laferaftus,  a  Conful  eledt,  was  put  to  Death  by 
the  Command  of  Nero,  for  being  privy  to  the  Confpiracy  of 
Fifo.  His  Execution  was  fo  fudden,  that  he  was  not  permitted 
to  take  Leave  of  his  Wife  and  Children  j  but  was  hurried  into  a 
Place  appropriated  to  the  Punifhment  of  Slaves,  and  there  killed 
by  the  Hand  of  the  Tribune  Statius,  He  fuffered  in  obftinate 
Silence,  and  without  making  any  Reproach  to  Stafius,  who  wax 
concerned  in  the  fame  Plot  for  which  he  himfelf  was  puniihed. 
Tacitus,  L.  xv.  c.  6o. 

(/J  Epaphroditus  was  the  Mafter  of  Requefts  and  Freedman  of 
Nero,  and  the  Maikei  of  Epi<Sefus.  He  affifted  Nero  in  killing 
himfelf;  for  which  he  was  condemned  to  Deatli  by  Domifia?:, 
Suetonius  /«  <vitd  Neronisy  c.  49.     Domit,  c.  14. 

ig)  See  Introdudtion,  §.  9. 


Chap.  I,      EPICTETUS.  5 

they  daily  to  write  ;  and  in  thefe  to  exercife 
themfelves. 

§.  7.  nrafeas  (h)  ufed  to  fay,  "  I  had  rather 
*'  be  killed  To-day,  than  banifhed  To-morrow.'* 
But  how  did  Rufus  (J)  anfwer  him  ?  "If  you 
*'  prefer  it  as  a  heavier  Misfortune,  how  foolifh 
*'  a  Preference !  If  as  a  lighter,  who  has  put  it 
*'  in  your  Power  ?  Why  do  not  you  fludy  ^jj  be 
*'  contented  with  what  is  allotted  you  ?" 

§.  8.  Well,  and  what  faid  Agrippinus  {k)^  upon 
this  Account  ?  "  I  will  not  be  a  Hindrance  to  my- 
*^  felf."  Word  was  brought  him,  "  Your  Caufe 
*'  is  trying  in  the  Senate." — ''  Good  Luck  attend 
*'  it. — But  it  is  Eleven  o'Clock"  (the  Hour  when 
he  ufed  to  exercife  before  bathing)  :  '^  Let  us  go 
*'  to  our  Exercife."  !  When  it  was  over,  a  Mef- 
fenger  tells  him,  "  You  are  condemned."  To  Ba- 
nifhment,  fays  he,  or  Death  ?  ''  To  Banifhment." 
—What  of  my  Eflate  ? —  "  It  is  not  taken  away/* 
Well  then,  let  us  go  as  far  as  Aricia  (/),  and  dine  there. 

§.  9.  This  it  is  to  have  fludied  {m)  what 
B  3  ought 

{h)  Ihrafeas  P^tus,  a  Stoic  Phlloropher,  put  to  Death  b/ 
f^ero.  He  was  Hufband  of  Arriay  fo  well  known  by  that  beau- 
tiful Epigram  in  Martial.  The  Expreffion  of  'Tacitits  concern- 
ing him  is  remarkable  :  Jfter  the  Murder  of  fa  many  excellent 
Perfonsy  Nero  at  laji  formed  a  Defre  of  cutting  off  Virtue  it/elf  by 
the  Execution  o/'Thrafeas  Paetus  ««^Bareas  Soranus.  L,  xvi.  c.  21. 

(/)  Rufus  was  a  Tufcan  of  the  Equeftrian  Order,  and  a  Stoic 
Philofopher.  When  Vefpafian  banifhed  the  other  Philofophers, 
Rufus  was  alone  excepted.     Up  ton  . 

(i)  Agrippinus  was  banifhed  by  Nero,  for  no  other  Crime  than 
the  unfortunate  Death  of  his  Father,  who  had  been  caufelefsly 
killed  by  the  Command  of  Tiberius  :  and  this  had  furrifh;^d  a 
Pretence  for  accufing  him  of  hereditary  Difloyalty.  Tacitus, 
L.  xvi.  c.  28,  29. 

(/)  Aricia,  a  Town  about  fixteen  Miles  from  Romey  which 
lay  in  his  Road  to  Banifhment. 

{m)  This  chearful  Readinefs  for  Death,  whenever  appointed 
by  Providence,  is  noble  in  a  Chriftian,  to  whom  dying  istak'ng 
Pofleflion  of  Happinefs.  But  in  Stoics,  who  feem  to  ibrni  1.0 
Hope  beyond  the  Grave,  it  had  furely  more  Infenfibility  than 
ixue  Bravery,  and  was  indeed  contrary  to  Natuie. 


^  ne  Discourses  o/'       Book  \, 

ought  to  be  ftudied  ;  to  have  rendered  our  De- 
fires  and  Averfions  incapable  of  being  reftrained, 
or  incurred.  I  muft  die  :  if  inftantly,  I  will  die 
inflantly ;  if  in  a  fhort  time,  I  will  dine  firft  ;* 
and  when  the  Hour  comes,  then  I  will  die. 
How  ?  As  becomes  one  who  reftores  what  is  not 
his  own, 

C  H  A  P  T  E  R    II. 

In  what  Manner^  upon  every  Occajion^  to  preferve 
our  Chara^er, 

§.  I.  'T^O  a  reafonable  Creature,  that  alone  is 
X  infupportable  which  is  unreafbnable  : 
but  every  thing  reafonable  may  be  fupported. 
Stripes  are  not  naturally  infupportable. — ''How  fo?'* 
—See  how  the  Spartans  (a)  bear  whipping,  af- 
ter they  have  learned  that  it  is  a  reafonable  i  hing. 
Hanging  is  not  infupportable  :  for,  as  foon  as  a 
Man  has  taken  it  into  his  Head  that  it  is  reafonable, 
he  goes  and  hangs  {b)  himfelf.  In  fhort,  we  fhall 
find  by  Obfervation,  that  no  Creature  is  oppreffed 
fb  much  by  any  thing,  as  by  what  is  unrealonable ; 
nor,  on  the  other  hand,  attraded  to  any  thing  fo 
flrongly,  as  to  what  is  reafonable. 

§.  2.  But  it  happens  that  different  Things  are 
reafonable  and  unreafonabk^  as  well  as  good  and  bad, 

advan- 

[a]  The  Spartans^  to  make  a  Trial  of  the  Fortitude  of  their 
Children,  ufed  to  have  them  publickly  whipt  at  the  Altar  ot 
Diana;  and  often  with  fo  much  Severity,  that  they  expired. 
The  Boys  fupported  this  Exercife  with  fo  much  Conftancy,  as 
never  to  cry  out,  nor  even  groan.    Upton /rc^z  Cicero,  &c. 

[b]  The  Suppofition  made  by  EpiSietus,  that  it  may  be  rea- 
fonable, fometimes,  for  Perfons  to  kill  themfelves,  is  a  ftrong 
and  alarming  Inftance  of  the  great  Neceflity  of  being  careful, 
not  only  in  general  to  form  juft  and  diftindl  Ideas  of  reafonable 
and  unreafonable,  but  to  apply  them  properly  to  particular  Sub- 
jects ;  fince  fuch  a  Man  as  He,  failed  in  fo  important  a  Cafe, 
at  the  vi^xy  time  when  he  was  giving  Cautions  to  others. 


Chap.  2,        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  ; 

advantageous  and  difadvantageous,  to  different  Per- 
fons.  On  this  Account,  chiefly,  we  ftand  in  need 
of  a  liberal  Education,  to  teach  us,  to  adapt  the 
Preconceptions  of  reafonable  and  unreafonable  to 
particular  Cafes,  conformably  to  Nature.  But  to 
judge  of  reafonable,  and  unreafonable,  we  make 
ufe  not  only  of  a  due  Ellimation  of  Things  with- 
out us,  but  of  what  relates  to  each  Perfon's  parti- 
cular Charadter.  Thus,  it  is  reafonable  for  one 
Man  to  fubmit  to  a  dirty  (c)  difgraceful  Office,  who 
confiders  this  only,  that  if  he  does  not  fubmit  to  it, 
he  ihall  be  whipt,  and  lofe  his  Dinner  ;  but  if 
he  does,  that  he  has  nothing  hard  or  difagreeable 
to  fuflfer  :  Whereas  to  another  it  appears  infupport- 
able,  not  only  to  fubmit  to  fuch  an  Office  himfelf, 
but  to  bear  with  any  one  elfe  who  does.  If  you  alk 
me,  then,  whether  you  fhall  do  this  dirty  Office  or 
not,  I  will  tell  you,  it  is  a  more  valuable  Thing  to 
get  a  Dinner,  than  not ;  and  a  greater  Difgrace  to 
be  whipt,  than  not  to  be  whipt :  So  that,  if  you 
meafure  yourfelf  by  thefe  Things,  go  and  do  your 
Office. 

*'  Ay,  but  this  is  not  fuitable  to  my  Charadter.'* 

It  is  Tou  who  are  to  confider  that,  not  / :  For  it 

is  you  who  know  yourfelf,  what  Value  you  fet  upon 

yourfelf,  and  at  what  Rate  you  fell  yourfelf :  for 

different  People  fell  themfelves  at  different  Prices. 

§  g.  Hence  Jgrippims  {d)^  when  Florus  was 
confidering  whether  he  (hould  go  to  Nero's  Shows, 
fb  as  to  perform  fome  Part  in  them  himfelf,  bid  him 
go. — "  But  why  do  not  you  go  then  ?"  fays  hlorus. 
*'  Becaufe,  replied  Agrippinus^  I  do  not  deliberate 

B  4  ''  about 

(r)  The  Tranflation  here  gives  only  the  general  Senfe,  as  % 
more  particular  Defcription  would  be  fcarcejy  fupportable  in  our 
Language. 

[d)  Nero  was  remarkably  fond  of  Theatrical  Entertainments  ; 
and  ufed  to  introduce  upon  the  Stage  the  Defcendants  of  noble 
Families,  whom  Want  had  rendered  venal.  Tacitus,  L.  xiv. 
c.  14. 


S  7*be  Discourses  of        Book  I. 

"  about  it."  For  he  who  once  fets  himfelf  about 
fuch  Confiderations,  and  goes  to  calculating  the 
Worth  of  external  Things,  approaches  very  near  to 
thofe  who  forget  their  own  Charadler.  For,  why- 
do  you  aik  me  whether  Death  or  Life  be  the  more 
eligible  ?  I  anfwer,  Life,  Pain  or  Pleafure  ?  I  an- 
fwer,  Pleafure.——''  But  if  I  do  not  adl  a  Part, 

*'  I  fhall  lofe  my  Head." Go  and  a6t  it  then, 

but  /will  not. ''  Why  }'* Becaufe  youefteem 

yourfelf  only  as  one  Thread  of  many  that  make 

up  the  Piece. ''  What  then  V' You  have 

nothing  to  care  for,  but  how  to  be  like  the  reft  of 
Mankind,  as  one  Thread  defires  not  to  be  diftin- 
guifhed  from  the  others.  But  /would  be  the  Pur- 
ple (e),  that  fmall  and  fhining  Thing,  which  gives 
a  Luftre  and  Beauty  to  the  reft.  Why  do  you  bid 
me  refemble  the  Multitude  then  ?  At  that  Rate, 
how  ftiall  I  be  the  Purple  ? 

§.  4.  This  Prifcus  Helvidius  (f)  too  faw,  and 
a6ted  accordingly  :  For  when  Vefpafian  had  fent  to 
forbid  his  going  to  the  Senate,  he  aiifwered,  "  It  is 
*'  in  your  Power  to  prevent  my  continuing  a  Senator ; 
*'  but  while  I  am  one,  I  muft  go.'*— — "  W^ell 

"  then,  at  leaft  be  filent  there." "  Do  not  afk 

"  my  Opinion,  and  I  will  be  filent." "  But  I 

"  muft  afk  it." "  And  I  muft  fpeak  what  ap- 

*'  pears  to  me  to  be  right." "  But  if  you  do,  I 

*'  will  put  you  to  Death." "  Did  I  ever  tell 

*'  you  that  I  was  immortal .?  You  will  do  your  Part, 
*'  and  I  mine  :  It  is  yours  to  kill,  and  mine  to  die 
*'  intrepid ;  yours  to  banifli  me,  mine  to  depart 
''  untroubled." 

§•  5- 

(e)  An  Allufion  to  the  Purple  Border,  which  diftinguiihed 
the  Drefs  of  the  Roman  Nobility. 

(f)  Hehndiui  Prifcus  was  no  lefs  remarkable  for  his  Learn- 
ing and  Philolcphy,  than  for  the  Sandit/  of  his  Manners  and 
the  Love  of  his  Country.  He  behaved  hov/ever  v.'ith  too 
much  Haughtinefs,  on  feveral  Cccafions,  to  Vefpafian^  who  {^n- 
fenced  him  to  Death  with  great  Reliidlance,  and  even  forbad  the 
Execution,  when  it  was  too  late,     Sueton-.    in  Vef^,  §.  15. 


Chap  2.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  9 

§.5.  What  Good,  then,  did  Prifcus  do,  who 
was  but  a  fingle  Perfon  ?  Why,  what  good  does 
the  Purple  do  to  the  Garment?  What,  but  the 
being  a  ihining  Charader  in  himfelf  (g)^  and  fet- 
ting  a  good  Example  to  others?  Another,  per- 
haps, if  in  fuch  Circumftances  defar  had  forbidden 
his  Going  to  the  Senate,  would  have  anfwered, 
*'  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  excufing  me."  But 
flich  a  one  he  would  not  have  forbidden  to  go : 
well  knowing,  that  he  would  either  fit  like  a  Sta- 
tue ;  or,  if  he  fpoke,  he  would  fay  what  he  knew 
to  be  agreeable  to  Cajar^  and  would  overdo  it  by 
adding  ftill  more. 

§.  6.  Thus  aded  even  a  Wreftler,  who  was 
in  Danger  of  Death,  unlefs  he  confented  to  an  ig- 
nominious Amputation.  His  Brother,  who  was  a 
Philofbpher,  coming  to  him,  and  faying,  "  Well, 
*'  Brother,  what  do  you  defign  to  do  ?  Let  us  cut 
*'  away  this  morbid  Part,  and  return  again  to  the 
*'  Field."     He  refufed,  and  courageoufly  died. 

§.  7.  When  it  was  afked,  whether  he  adled 
thus  as  a  Wreftler,  or  a  Philofopher  ?  I  anfwer, 
Asa  Man,  faid  Epi^etus  \  but  as  a  Man  who  had 
been  proclaimed  a  Champion  at  the  Olympic 
Games ;  who  had  been  ufed  to  fuch  Places,  and 
not  exercifed  merely  in  the  School  of  Bato  (Jj). 
Another  would  have  had  his  very  Head  cut  ofF^  if 
he  could  have  lived  without  it.  This  is  that  Regard 
to  Character,  fo  powerful  with  thofe  who  are  ac- 
cuftomed  to  introduce  it,  from  their  own  Breafts, 
into  their  Deliberations. 

§.8.  "  Come  now,  Epicfetus^  take  off  your 
"  Beard  C/;." — If  I  am  a  Philofopher,  I  anfwer,  I 

will 

(g)  A'jTu  in  the  Original  refers  to  *fx,*Ti&; ;  but  the  Figure 
would  have  appeared  harlTi  In  the  Tranllation. 

(h)  Bato  was  a  tamo  us  Mailer  of  the  Olympic  Exercifes. 
Upton. 

(i)  Domitian  ordered  all  the  Philofophers  to  be  banlflied. 
To  avoid  this  Inconvenience,  thofe  who  had  a  JVlind  to  dif- 
guife  their  Profeilion,  took  off  their  Beards.     Upton. 


lo  The  Discourses  of        Book  I. 

will  not  take  it  off "  Then  I  will  take  off 

*'  your  Head." — If  that  will  do  you  any  good,  take 
it  off 

§.  9.  It  was  afked,  How  fhall  each  of  us  per- 
ceive what  belongs  to  his  Charader  ?  Whence, 
replied  Epi5ietus^  does  a  Bull,  when  the  Lion  ap- 
proaches, perceive  his  own  Qualifications  (k)^  and 
expofe  himfelf  alone  for  the  whole  Herd  ?  It  is 
evident,  that  with  the  Qualifications,  occurs,  at 
the  fame  time,  the  Confcioufnefs  of  being  indued 
with  them.  And  in  the  fame  manner,  whoever 
of  Us  hath  fuch  Qualifications,  will  not  be  igno- 
rant of  them.  But  neither  is  a  Bull,  nor  a  gallant- 
ipirited  Man,  formed  all  at  once.  We  are  to  exer- 
cife  and  qualify  ourfelves,  and  not  to  run  rafhly 
upon  what  doth  not  concern  us. 

§.  10.  Only  confider  at  what  Price  you  fell 
your  own  Will  and  Choice,  Man  (I)  :  If  for  no- 
thing elfe,  that  you  may  not  fell  it  for  a  Trifle. 
Greatnefs  indeed,  and  Excellence,  perhaps  belong 
to  others,  to  fuch  as  Socrates. 
.  Why  then,  as  we  are  born  with  a  like  Nature, 
do  not  all,  or  the  greater  Number  become  fuch 
as  he? 

Why,  are  all  Horfes  fwift  ?  Are  all  Dogs  faga- 
cious  ?  What  then,  becaufe  Nature  hath  not  be- 
friended me.  Shall  I  negledl  all  Care  of  myielf  ? 
Heaven  forbid  !  Epi^letus  is  inferior  to  Socrates  (m) ; 

but  if  fuperior  to this  is  enough  for  me. 

I  Ihall 

(ij  This  Term  was  ufed,  among  the  Stoics,  to  exprefs 
the  natural  or  acquired  Powers  necelTary  to  the  Performance  of 
any  A6lion. 

f/J  See  Introduflion,  §.  9. 

(tn)  This  is  a  difficult  Place.  The  Text,  as  it  ftands  now, 
is  ETTtxTJjTc?  Xfiiacruy  Tu>ifoc,rov  ovk  tfiv.  h  h  /xvj,  ov  x^i^uv'  rovro  /xo* 
vcecvQv  £^iv.  Which  mull  be  tranflated,  Epictetus  is  not  fuperior 
to  Socrates  :  But  if  not,  he  is  not  inferior  j  and  this  is  enough  for 
vti.  By  a  Change  in  the  Pointing,  it  might  perhaps  be  tran- 
flated, hut  if  he  is  not  inferior,  this  is  enough  for  me.    And  fome- 

tiraes 


Chap;  3.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  ,i 

I-  Ihall  never  be  Milo^  and  yet  I  do  not  negledl  my 
Body ;  nor  Crosjus^  and  yet  I  do  not  negled  my 
Property  :  Nor,  in  general,  do  we  omit  the  Care  of 
any  thing  belonging  to  us,  from  a  Defpair  of  ar- 
riving at  the  hjghefl  Degree  of  Perfection. 

C  H  A  P  T  E  R    III. 

Hdw^  from  the  Do5lrine  that  Ged  is  the  Father  of 

Mankind^  we  may  proceed  to  its  Confequences, 

§.  I.  TF  a  Perfon  could  be  perfuaded  of  this 
JL  Principle  as  he  ought,  that  we  are  all  ori- 
ginally defcended  from  God,  and  that  he  is  the 
Father  of  Gods  and  Men  -,  I  conceive  he  never 
would  think  meanly  or  degenerately  concerning 
himfelf  Suppole  C^efar  were  to  adopt  you,  there 
would  be  no  bearing  your  haughty  Looks :  And 
will  you  not  be  elated  on  knowing  yourfelf  to  be 
the  Son  of  Jupiter?  Yet,  in  Fadt,  we  are  not 
elated.  But  having  two  Things  in  our  compofition, 
intimately  united,  a  Body  in  Common  with  the 
Brutes,  and  Reafon  and  Sentiment  in  common 
with  the  Gods  ;  many  incline  to  this  unhappy  and 
mortal  Kindred,  and  only  fome  few  to  the  divine 
and  happy  one.  And,  as  of  Necelllty  every  one 
mull  treat  each  particular  Thing,  according  to  the 
Notions  he  formes  about  it;  fothofe  few,  who  think 
they  are  made  for  Fidelity,  Decency,  and  a  well- 
grounded  Ufe  of  the  Appearances  of  Things,  ne- 
ver 

times  the  Stoics  confidered  themfelves  as  not  inferior  to  the 
Deity.  See  lib.  T.  c.  xii.  §.  2.  But  neither  of  thefe  Render- 
ings niakes  a  proper  Connexion.  I  have  therefore  adventured  to 
fuppofe,  that  K^t.acrm  and  x^^f^^  have  changed  Places;  that  wx. 
hathanlen  from  a  cafual  Repetition  of  the  two  laft  Letters  of 
XuiKfdTov  ;  and  that  /x^  o«  is  the  Remainder  of  fome  proper  Name 
known:  perhaps  MsAiToy,  as  he  was  one  of  the  Accufers  of 
Socrates:  which  cannot  now  be  known.  This  will  give  the 
Senle  which  I  have  expreifed,  and  it  is  the  only  unexceptiona- 
bJe  one  that  I  can  find.  ^ 


12  W(?  D I  s  CO  u  R  s  E  s  (>/         Book  I. 

ver  think  meanly  or  degenerately  concerning  them- 
felves.  But  with  the  Multitude  the  Cafe  is  con* 
trary :  '^  For  what  am  I  ?  A  poor  contemptible 
*'  Man,  with  this  miferable  Flefti  of  mine !"  Mi- 
ferable  indeed.  But  you  have  likewife  fomething 
better  than  this  paultry  Flelh.  Why  then,  over- 
looking that,  do  you  pine  away  in  Attention  to 

this  ? 

§.  2.  By  means  of  this  [animal]  Kindred,  fbmc 
of  us,  deviating  towards  it,  become  like  Wolves, 
faithlefs,  and  infidious,  and  mifchievous :  others, 
like  Lions,  wild,  and  favage,  and  untamed:  but 
moil  of  us  Foxes,  and  Wretches  even  among 
Brutes.  For  what  elfe  is  a  flanderous  and  ill-na- 
tured Man,  than  a  Fox,  or  fomething  yet  more 
wretched  and  mean  ?  See  then,  and  take  heed,  that 
you  do  Bot  become  fuch  Wretches. 

CHAPTER    IV. 

Of  Improvement. 

§.  I.  TTE  who  is  entering  on  a  State  of  Iipprove- 
JJL  ment,  having  learnt  from  the  Philofo- 
phers,  that  the  Objedof  Defire  is  Good,  of  Aver- 
fion.  Evil ;  and  having  learnt  too,  that  Profpenty 
and  Eafe  are  no  otherwife  attainable  by  Man,  than 
in  not  being  difappointed  of  his  Defire,  nor  incur- 
ring his  Averfion:  fuch  an  one  removes  totally 
from  himfelf  and  poftpones  Defire  (a),  and  applies 
Averfion  only  to  things  dependent  on  Choice.  For 
if  he  ihould  be  averfe  to  Things  independent  on 
Choice ;  he  knows,  that  he  muft  fometimes  incur 
his  Averfion,  and  be  unhappy.  Now  if  Virtue 
promifes  Happinefs,  Profperity,  and  Eafe  ;  then, 
an  Improvement  in  Virtue  is  certainly  an  Improve- 
ment 111  each  of  thefe.     For  to  whatever  Point  the 

Per* 

(a)  Ztt  Enchiridion,  c.  ii.  Note  (h). 


i 


Chap.  4.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  13 

Perfedion  of  any  thing  abfolutely  brings  us,  Im- 
provement is  always  an  Approach  towards  it. 

§.  2.  How  happens  it  then,  that  when  we  con- 
fefs  Virtue  to  be  fuch,  yet  we  feek,  and  make  an 
oftentatious  Show  of  Improvement  in  other  Things  ? 
What  is  the  Bufmefs  of  Virtue  ? 

A  profperous  Life. 

Who  is  in  a  State  of  Improvement  then  ?  He 
who  hath  read  the  many  Treatifes  of  Chryfippus  .  b)  f 
Why,  doth  Virtue  confift  in  having  read  Chryfip- 
pus  through  ?  If  it  doth.  Improvement  is  confeifed- 
ly  nothing  elfe  than  underflanding  a  great  deal  of 
Chryfippiis :  otherwife  we  confefs  Virtue  to  produce 
one  Thing ;  and  declare  Improvement,  which  is  an 
Approach  to  it,  to  be  quite  another  Thing. 

§.  3.    This  Peribn,  fays  one  [of  you],  is  already 

able  to  read  Cbryjippus,  by  himfelf ''  Certain- 

*'  ly,  Sir,  you  have  made  a  vafl  Improvement !" 
What  Improvement?  Why  do  you  ridicule  him  ? 
Why  do  you  withdraw  him  from  a  Senfe  of  his 
Misfortunes  ?  Why  do  not  you  fhow  him  the  Bu- 
finefs  of  Virtue,  that  he   may  know  where  to  feek 

Improvement? Seek  it  there,  Wretch,  where 

your  Bufmefs  lies.     And  where  doth  your  Bufmefs 

lie? 


fh)  Chryjtppus  is  called,  by  Cicero,  the  mofl:  fubtile  Inter- 
preter of  the  Stoic  Dreams,  and  the  Support  of  the  Portico.  He 
compofed  705  Volumes;  which  is  not  very  wonderful,  as  he 
was  fo  fond  of  Quotations,  that  in  one  of  his  Pieces  he  tran- 
fcribed  almoft  an  entire  Play  of  Euripides.  His  chief  Study 
was  Logic,  which  he  carried  to  a  trifling  Degree  of  Subtility. 
There  is  nothing  now  remaining  of  his  Works  but  fome  of 
their  Titles.  He  died  about  200  Years  before  the  Chrillian 
iEra,  and  was  honoured  by  the  Athenians  with  a  Sratue  in  the 
Ceranicus.  His  Death  is  faid  to  have  been  occafioned  by  an 
immoderate  Fit  of  Laughing,  at  feeing  an  Afs  eat  Figs.  Chry^ 
Jfppu s  dtHred  the  Afs  might  have  a  Glafs  of  Wine  to  wafh  them 
down  ;  and  was  fo  diverted  with  his  own  Conceit,  that  it  coft 
him  his  Life.  He  is  faid  to  have  been  a  ver}'  copious  and  ia- 
borious  Writer,  but  obfcure  and  immoral ;  though  one  v.^ould 
be  inclined  to  think,  from  the  Refped  with  which  he  is  men- 
tioned by  Epidetusy  that  this  latter  Accufation  was  groundlefs- 


14  7*/;^  D  I  SCO  u  RSEs  ^/        Book!* 

lie  ?  In  Defire  and  Averfion ;  that  you  may  neither 
be  difappointed  of  the  one,  nor  incur  the  other ; 
in  exerting  the  Powers  of  Purfuit  and  Avoidance, 
that  you  may  not  be  liable  to  fail  •,  in  Affent  and 
Sufpenfe,  that  you  may  not  be  liable  to  be  de- 
ceived. The  firfl  and  moil  neceilary  is  the  firft 
Topic  (c).  But  if  you  feek  to  avoid  incurring  your 
Averfion,  trembling  and  lamenting  all  the  while, 
at  this  rate  how  do  you  improve  ? 

§.  4.  Show  me  then  your  Improvement  in  this 
Point.  As  if  I  fhould  fay  to  a  Wreftler,  Show  me 
your  Shoulders  -,  and  he  fhould  anfwer  me,  "  See 

*'  my  Poifers." Do  you  and  your  Poifers  look 

to  that :  I  defire  to  fee  the  EfFed  of  them. 

"  Take  theTreatife  on  the  Subjedl  of  the  a5!ive 
*'  Powers^  and  fee  how  thoroughly  I  have  pe- 
*'  rufedit." 

I  do  not  enquire  into  this,  Wretch  :  but  how 
you  exert  thofe  Powers ;  how  you  manage  your  De- 
iires  and  Averfions,  how  your  Intentions  and  Pur- 
pofes  •,  how  you  are  prepared  for  Events,  whe- 
ther conformably  or  contrary  to  Nature.  If  con- 
formably, give  me  Evidence  of  that,  and  1  will 
{ay  you  improve :  if  contrary,  go  your  way,  and 
not  only  comment  on  thefe  Treatifes,  but  write 
fuch  yourfelf;  and  what  Service  will  it  do  you? 
Do  not  you  know  that  the  whole  Volume  is  fold 
for  Half  a  Crown  ?  Doth  he  who  comments  upon 
it,  then,  value  himfelf  at  more,  than  Half  a 
Crown  }  Never  look  for  your  Bufmefs  in  one 
Thing,   and  for  Improvement  in  another. 

Where  is  Improvement,  then  ? 

If  any  of  you,  withdrawing  himfelf  from  Exter- 
nals, turns  to  his  own  Faculty  of  Choice,  to  exer* 
cife,  and  finifh,  and  render  it  conformable  to  Na- 
ture; elevated,  free,  unreflrained,  unhindered,  faith- 
ful, decent :  if  he  hath  learnt  too,  that  whoever 

defires, 

(c)  See  IntroduiSlion,  §,  4,  5, 6. 


Chap.4.       EPICTETUS.  15 

defires,  or  is  averfe  to,  Things  cut  of  his  own 
Power,  can  neither  be  faithful  nor  free,  but  muft 
neceflarily  be  changed  and  tofled  up  and  down 
with  them ;  mufl  neceflarily  too  be  fubjedt  to  others, 
to  fuch  as  can  procure  or  prevent  what  he  defires  or 
is  averfe  to :  if,  rifing  in  the  Morning,  he  obferves 
and  keeps  to  thefe  Rules  ^  bathes  and  eats  as  a 
Man  of  Fidelity  and  Honour ;  and  thus,  on  every 
Subjedt  of  Action,  exercifes  himfelf  in  his  princi* 
pal  Duty;  as  a  Racer,  in  the  Bufmefs  of  Rac- 
ing ;  as  a  public  Speaker,  in  the  Bufinefs  of  exerci- 
fing  his  Voice :  this  is  he,  who  truly  improves ; 
this  is  he,  who  hath  not  travelled  in  vain.  But  if 
he  is  wholly  intent  on  reading  Books,  and  hath  la- 
boured that  Point  only,  and  travelled  (d)  for  that : 
I  bid  him  go  home  immediately,  and  not  negled 
his  domeflic  Affairs ;  for  what  he  travelled  for,  is 
nothing.  The  only  real  Thing  is,  fludying  how 
to  rid  his  Life  of  Lamentation,  and  Complaint,  and 
Alas  I  and  /  am  undone^  and  Misfortune,  and  Dif- 
appointment ;  and  to  learn  what  Death,  what 
Exile,  what  Prifon,  what  Poifon  is  :  That  he  may 
be  able  to  fay  in  a  Prifon,  like  Socrates^  "  My  dear 
"  Crito  ;  if  it  thus  pleafes  the  Gods,  thus  let  it  be  ;" 

and  not "  Wretched  old  Man,  have  I  kept 

*'  my  grey  Hairs  for  this!"  Who  fpeaks  thus? 
Do  you  fuppofe  I  will  name  fome  mean  and  defpi- 
cable  Perfon  ?  Is  it  not  Priam  who  fays  it  ?  Is  it 
not  Oedipus  f  Nay,  how  many  Kings  fay  it  ? 
For  what  elfe  is  Tragedy,  but  the  Sufferings  of 
Men,  ftruck  by  an  Admiration  of  Externals,  re- 
prefented  in  that  Kind  of  Poetry  ?  If  one  was  to 
be  taught  by  Fidions,  that  Externals  independent 
upon  Choice  are  nothing  to  us  ;  /,  for  my  Part, 
fhould  wifh  for  fuch  a  Fiction,  as  that,  by  which  I 

might 

(d)  An  Allufion  to  the  antient  Cuftom  among  Phllofbphers, 
©f  travelling  into  foreign  Countries,  for  Improvement, 


i6  ne  Discourses  c/  Book  I. 

might  live   profperoufly  and  undifturbed.     What 
you  wifh  for,  it  is  your  Bufinefs  to  confider. 

§.  5.     Of  what  Service,   then,  is  Chryftppus  to 
us? 

(e)  To  teach  you,  that  thofe  Things  are  not 
falfe,  on  which  Profperity  and  Eafe  depend.  *'  Take 
*'  my  Books,  and  you  will  fee,  how  true  and  con- 
*'  formable  to  Nature  thofe  Things  are,  which 
*'  render  me  eafy,"  How  great  a  Happinefs !  And 
how  great  the  Benefactor,  who  fhows  the  Way ! 
To  Triptolemus  all  Men  have  raifed  Temples  and 
Altars,  becaufe  he  gave  us  a  milder  Kind  of  Food : 
but  to  him  who  hath  difcovered,  and  brought  to 
Light,  and  communicated,  the  Truth  to  all  (f)  v 
the  Means,  not  of  living,  but  of  living  well ;  who 
among  you  ever  raifed  an  Altar  or  a  Temple,  or 
dedicated  a  Statue,  or  who  worftiips  God  on  that 
Account  ?  We  offer  Sacrifices  on  the  Account  of 
thofe  [Benefadlors]  who  have  given  us  Corn  and  the 
Vine  \  and  fhall  we  not  give  Thanks  to  God,  for 
thofe  who  have  produced  that  Fruit  in  the  human 
Underftanding,  by  which  they  proceed  to  difcover 
to  us  the  true  Dodtrine  of  Happinefs  ? 

CHAP- 

(e)  What  ought  to  be  our  DIfpofitions  towards  Good  and 
Evil,  may  be  learned  from  Philofophy  :  but  what  that  certainly- 
attainable  Good,  and  that  Evil  which,  without  our  own  Faults, 
we  need  never  incur,  are,  Chriftianity  alone  can  teach.  That 
alone  can  enable  us  to  unite  the  Wifdom,  Courage,  Dignity, 
ajid  Compofure  of  the  Stoics,  with  the  Humility  that  belongs 
to  our  frail  Nature,  snd  the  various  AfFedions  that  are  infepa- 
rable  from  Humanity. 

(f)  Epiftetus  fpeaks  with  great  Thankfulnefs  to  Heaven  on 
the  Account  of  Chrjjippus,  a  fubtile  and  perplexed  Writer, 
from  whofe  Inftrudtions,  only  a  few  ftudious  abftraded  Perfons 
could  derive  any  Benefit.  How  much  ftronger  ought  to  be 
the  Gratitude  of  thofe,  who  are  bleffed  with  the  Knowledge 
of  Him,  who  hath  brought  Life  and  Immortality  to  Light  (the 
Word  is  the  fame  in  Epiaetus  and  St.  Paul)  j  who  hath  ren- 
dered the  Way  to  Virtue  and  to  Happinefs  not  only  intelligible, 
but  acceflible,  to  all  Mankind  ;  and  who  is  Himfelf  the  Way,  the 
7ruthf  and  the  Life, 


Qiap.  5.       EPICTETUa  17 

C  H  A  P  T  E  R    V. 

Concerning  the  Academics  (a), 

§.  I.  T  F  any  one  oppofes  very  evident  Truths, 
X  it  is  not  eafy  to  find  a  Reafon  which  may 
perdiade  him,  to  alter  his  Opinion.  This  arifes 
neither  from  his  own  Strength,  nor  from  the 
Weaknefs  of  his  Teacher  :  but  when,  after-  being 
driven  upon  an  Abfurdity,  he  becomes  petrified, 
how  fliali  we  deal  with  him  any  longer  by  Rea- 
fon ? 

§.  2.  Now  there  are  two  Sorts  of  Petrifadlion  : 
The  one,  a  Petrifadion  of  the  Underflanding ;  the 
other,  of  the  Senfe  of  Shame,  when  a  Perfon  hath 
obflinately  fet  himfelf  not  to  affent  to  evident 
Truths,  nor  to  quit  the  Defence  of  Contradidi- 
ons.  We  all  dread  a  bodily  Mortification-,  and 
would  make  ufe  of  every  Contrivance  to  avoid  it  ; 
but  none  of  us  is  troubled  about  a  Mortification 
in  the  Soul.  And  yet,  indeed,  even  with  regard 
to  the  Soul,  when  a  Perfon  is  fo  affedted,  as  not  to 
apprehend  or  underfland  any  thing,  we  think  him 
in  a  fad  Condition  :  but  where  the  Senfe  of  Shame 
and  Modefly  is  under  an  abfolute  Mortification, 
we  go  fo  far,  as  even  to  call  thisy  Strength  of 
Mind  (b), 

§.3.    Are  you  certain  that  you  are  awake  ^ • 

"  I  am  not  (replies  fuch  a  Perfon) :  for  neither  am 
"  I  certain,  when,  in  dreaming,  I  appear  to  my- 

"  felf  to   be  awake." Is  there  no  Difference, 

then,  between  thefe  Appearances .? "  None." 

C  Shall 

(a)  The  Academics  held,  that  there  is  nothing  to  be 
known  ;  that  we  have  not  Faculties  to  diftinguifh  between 
7'ruth  and  Falfhood  j  and  their  Cullom  v/as  neither  to  atHrm 
nor  deny  any   thing. 

(b)  A  Sceptic  was  held  to  be  an  E/}ritfcrt, 


i  J  The  Discourses  of        Book  IJ 

Shall  I  argue  with  this  Man  any  longer  ? 
For  what  Steel  or  what  Cauflic  can  I  apply,  to 
make  him  fenfible  of  his  Mortification  ?  He  is 
fenfible  of  it :  and  pretends  not  to  be  fo.  He  is 
even  worfe  than  dead.  Doth  not  he  fee  the  Re- 
pugnancy of  contradictory  Propofitions  ?  He  fees 
it  j  and  is  never  the  better.  He  is  neither  moved, 
nor  improves.  Nay,  he  is  in  a  yet  worfe  Condi- 
tion :  his  Senfe  of  Shame  and  Modefty  is  utterly 
extirpated.  His  reafoning  Faculty  indeed  is  not 
extirpated  -,  but  turned  wild  and  lavage.  Shall  I 
call  tbis^  Strength  of  Mind  ?  By  no  means  :  unlefs 
we  allow  it  be  fuch  in  the  vilefl  Debauchees, 
publickly  to  fpeak  and  a6t  whatever  comes  into 
their  Heads. 

C  H  A  P  T  E  R    VI. 

Of  Providence, 

§.  I.  T^ROM  every  Event  that  happens  in  the 
X  World,  it  is  eafy  to  celebrate  Providence, 
if  a  Perfon  hath  but  thefe  two  Circumflances  in 
himfelf ;  a  Faculty  of  confidering  what  happens  to 
each  Individual,  and  a  grateful  Temper.  With- 
out the  firfl,  he  will  not  perceive  the  Ufefulnefs  of 
Things  which  happen  :  and  without  the  other,  he 
will  not  be  thankful  for  them.  If  God  had  made  Co- 
lours, and  had  not  iriade  the  Faculty  of  feeing 
them,  what  would  have  been  their  Ufe  ? 

None. 

On  the  contrary,  if  he  had  made  the  Faculty, 
without  fuch  Objects  as  fall  under  its  Obfervation, 
what  would  have  been  the  Ufe  of  diat  ? 

None. 

Again :  If  he  had  formed  both  the  Faculty  and 
the  Objedls,  but  had  not  made  Light  ? 

Neither  in  that  Cafe  would  they  have  been  of 
any  Ule» 

§.  2* 


Chap.  6.       E  P  1  C  T  E  T  U  S.  19 

§.  2.  Who  is  it  then  that  hath  fitted  each  of 
thefe  to  the  other  ?  Who  is  it  that  hath  fitted  the 
Sword  to  the  Scabbard,  and  the  Scabbard  to  the 
Sword  ?  Is  it  no  one  ?  From  the  very  Conftruc- 
tion  of  a  complete  Work,  we  arc  ufed  to  declare 
pofitively^  that  it  mull  be  the  Operation  of  fom.e 
Artificer,  and  not  the  Effed  of  mere  Chance. 
Doth  every  fuch  Work,  then,  demonflrate  an  Arti- 
ficer ;  and  do  not  vifible  Objeds,  and  the  Senfe  of 
Seeing,  and  Light,  demonflrate  one  ?  Doth  not 
the  Difference  of  the  Sexes,  and  their  Inclination 
to  each  other,  and  the  Ufe  of  their  feveral  Powers ;  do 
not  thefe  Things,  neither,  demonflrate  an  Arti- 
ficer  ? 

Mofl  certainly  they  do. 

§.  3.  But  farther :  This  Conflitutlon  of  Un- 
derflanding,  by  which  we  are  not  fimply  impref- 
fed  by  fenfible  Objeds ;  but  take  and  fubflradt  from 
them;  and  add  and  compofe  fomething  out  of 
them  i  and  pafs  from  fome  to  others  abfolutely  re- 
mote (a) :  Is  not  all  this,  neither,  fufficient  to  pre- 
vail on  fome  Men,  and  make  them  afhamed  of 
leaving  an  Artificer  out  of  their  Scheme  ?  If  not, 
let  them  explain  to  us  what  it  is  that  effeds  each 
of  thefe ;  and  how  it  is  polTible  that  Things  fo  won- 
derful, and  which  carry  fuch  Marks  of  Contrivance, 
fhould  come  to  pafs  fpontaneoufly,  and  without 
Defign. 

What,  then,  do  thefe  Things  come  to  pafs  for 
our  Service  only  ^ 

Many  for  ours  only  ;  fuch  as  are  peculiarly  necef- 
fary  for  a  reafonable  Creature :  but  you  will  find 
many,  common  to  us  with  mere  Animals. 

Then,  do  ihey  too  underfland  what  is  done  ? 

Not  at  all :  For  Ufe  is  one  Affair,  and  Under- 
flanding  another.    But  God  had  Need  of  Animals, 

C  2  to 

(a)  The  Tranflatlon  follows  ov^«f*fc;;  in  Mr.  Uptons  Ad- 
denda* 


j^  7he  Discourses  of        Book  \, 

to  makeufe  of  the  Appearances  of  Things  {}). ;  and 
of  Us  to  under Jland  that  Ufe.  It  is  fufficient,  there- 
fore, for  them  to  eat,  and  drink,  and  fleep,  and 
continue  their  Species,  and  perform  other  fuch  Of- 
fices as  belong  to  each  of  them  :  but  to  us^  to 
whom  he  hath  given  likewife  a  Faculty  of  Under- 
ftanding,  thefe  Offices  are  not  fufficient.  For  if  we 
do  not  adt  in  a  proper  and  orderly  Manner,  and 
fuitably  to  the  Nature  and  Conflitution  of  each 
Thing  -,  we  fhall  no  longer  attain  our  End.  For 
where  the  Conflitution  of  Beings  is  diferent,  their 
Offices  and  Ends  are  different  likewife.  Thus 
where  the  Conflitution  is  adapted  only  to  Ufe,  there 
Ufe  is  alone  fufficient :  But  where  vinderflanding  is 
added  to  Ufe,  unlefs  that  too  be  duely  exercifed,  the 
End  of  Inch  a  Being  will  never  be  attained. 

§.  4.  Well  then :  each  of  the  Animals  is  con- 
Hituted  either  for  Food,  or  Hufbandry,  or  to-  pro- 
duce Milk  i  and  the  refl  of  them  for  fome  other 
like  Ufe  :  and  for  thefe  Purpofes  what  need  is  there 
of  tmderlianding  the  Appearances  of  Things,  and 
being  able  to  make  Diftindions  concerning  them  ? 
But  God  hath  introduced  Man^  as  a  Spectator  of 
Himfelf,  and  his  Works ;  and  not  only  as  a  Spec- 
tator, but  an  Interpreter  of  them.  It  is  therefore 
fhameful  that  Man  fhould  begin,  and  end,  where 
irrational  Creatures  do.  He  is  indeed  rather  to  be- 
gin there,  but  to  end  where  Nature  itfelf  hath  fixt 
our  End  •,  and  that  is  in  Contemplation,  and  Un- 
derfbanding,  and  in  a  Scheme  of  Life  conformable 
to  Nature. 

§.  5.  Take  care,  then,  not  to  die  without  Spec- 
tators of  thefe  Things.  You  take  a  Journey  to 
Olympia  to  behold  the  Work  (c)  of  Phidias^  and 
each  of  you  thinks  it  a  MisfortUiie  to  die  without 
a  Knowledge  of  fuch  Things :   and  will  you  have, 

na 


{b)  See  Introduftlon,  §.  7. 

{c)  The  famous  Statue  q(  Jupiter  Olympiiis. 


Chap.  6.       EPICTETUS.  21 

310  Inclination  to  iinderftand,  and  be  Spedtators  of 
thofe  Works,  for  which  there  is  no  need  to  take  a 
Journey  ;  but  which  are  ready  and  at  hand,  even 
to  thofe  who  bellow  no  Pains  (d) !  Will  you  never 
perceive,  then,  either  what  you  are,  or  for  what 
you  were  born  ;  nor  for  what  Purpofe  you  are  ad- 
mitted Speculators  of  this  Sight  ? 

But  there  are  fome  Things  unpleafant  and  difE- 
cult,  in  Life. 

And  are  there  none  at  Olympia?  Areaotyou 
heated  ?  Are  not  you  crouded  ?  Are  not  you  with- 
out good  Conveniencies  for  bathing  {e)  F  Are  not 
you  wet  through,  when  it  happens  to  rain  ?  Do 
not  you  bear  Uproar,  and  Noife,  and  other  difa- 
greeable  Circumitances -?  But  I  fuppofe,  by  com- 
paring all  thefe  with  the  Advantage  of  feeing  fo 
valuable  a  Sight,  you  fupport  and  go  through  them. 
Well :  and  [in  the  prefent  Cafe]  have  not  you  re^ 
ceive<i  Faculties  by  which  you  may  fupport  every 
Event  ?  Have  not  you  received  Greatnefs  of 
Soul .?  Have  not  you  received  a  manly  Spirit  ? 
Have  not  you  received  Patience .«'  Vv^iat  fignifies 
to  me  any  thing  that  happens,  while  I  have  a 
Greatnefs  of  Soul  ^  What  Ihall  difconcert  or  trou- 
ble or  appear  grievous  to  me  ^  Shall  I  not  make 
ufe  of  my  Faculties,  to  that  Purpofe  for  which  they 
were  granted  me  ;  but  lament  and  groan  at  what 
happens  ? 

§.  6.    Oh,  but  my  Nofe  (f)  runs. 

And  what  hav,e  you  Hands  for,  Beafl,  but  to 
y/ipe  it  ? 

€  3  But 

fd)  TheTranflatlon  follows  a  conjedtural  Emenxlatlon  of  Mr, 
Upton  s  on  this  PaiTage. 

{e)  It  was  one  Part  of  the  Elegance  of  thofe  Times,  to  bathe 
every  Day. 

(f)  EpiSfetus  probably  introduces  this  ridiculous  Complalnf, 
in  order  to  intimate,  that  others  commonly  made  are  little  lefs 
fo.  See  M.  Jnionhms^  L  viii.  §.  50.  ofGataLi-'i  Edition  and  the 
QlaliGvj  Tranflatiox. 


Hz  ne  Discourses  of        Book  I. 

But  was  there  then'  any  good  Reafon,  that  there 
fliould  be  fuch  a  dirty  Thing  in  the  World  ? 

And  how  much  better  is  it  that  you  fhould  wipe 
your  Noie,  than  complain  ?  Pray,  what  Figure  do 
you  think  Hercules  would  have  made,  if  there  had 
ilot  been  fuch  a  Lion,  and  a  Hydra,  and  a  Stag,  and 
unjuft  and  brutal  Men ;  whom  he  expelled  and 
cleared  away  ?  And  what  would  he  have  done,  if 
none  of  thefe  had  exiiled  ?  Is  it  not  plain,  that  he 
mufl  have  wrapt  himfelf  up  and  flept  ?  In  the  firft 
place,  then,  he  would  never  have  become  a  Her- 
cuies,  by  {lumbering  away  his  whole  Life  in  fuch 
Delicacy  and  Eafe :  or  if  he  had,  what  Good  would 
it  have  done  ?  What  would  have  been  the  Ufe  of 
his  Arm,  and  the  refl:  of  his  Strength ;  of  his  Pa- 
tience, and  Greatnefs  o^  Mind ;  if  fuch  Circum- 
flances  and  Subjeds  of  Adion  had  not  roufed  and 
exercifed  him  ? 

What  then,  muft  we  provide  thefe  Things  for 
ourfelves  •,  and  introduce  a  Boar,  and  a  Lion,  and  a 
Hydra,  into  our  Country  ? 

This  would  be  Madnefs  and  Folly.  But  as  they 
were  in  being,  and  to  be  met  with,  they  were  pro- 
per Subjects  to  fet  off  and  exercife  Hercules.  Do 
you  therefore  likewife,  being  fenfible  of  this,  in- 
fpeft  the  Faculties  you  have :  and  after  taking  a 
View  of  them,  fay,"  Bring  on  me  now,  O  Jupi^ 
*'  ter,  what  Difficulty  thou  wilt,  for  I  have  Facul- 
*^  ties  granted  me  by  Thee,  and  Abilities  by  which 
*'  I  may  acquire  Honour  and  Ornament  to  my- 

*'  felf" No:  but  you  fit  trembling,  for  fear 

this  or  that  fhould  happen  :  and  lamenting,  and 
mourning,  and  groaning  at  what  doth  happen; 
and  then  you  accufe  the  Gods.  For  what  is  the 
Confequence  of  fuch  a  Meanfpiritednefs,  but  Im- 
piety ?  -And  yet  God  hath  not  only  granted  us  thefe 
Faculties,  by  which  we  may  bear  every  Event, 
without  being  depreffed  or  broken  by  it  •,  but,  like 
a  good  Prince,  and  a  true  Father,  hath  rendered 

them 


Chap.  7.      E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  ^3 

them  incapable  of  Reftraint,  Compulfion,  or  Hin- 
drance, and  intirely  dependent  on  our  own  Pleafure : 
nor  hath  he  referved  a  Power,  even  to  himfelf,  of 
hindering  or  reflraining  them.  Having  thefe  Things 
free,  and  your  own,  will  you  make  no  Ufe  of  them, 
nor  confider  what  you  have  received,  nor  from 
whom  ?  But  fit  groaning  and  lamenting,  fome  of 
you,  blind  to  him  who  gave  them,  and  not  acknow- 
ledging your  Benefador  ;  and  others,  bafely  turn- 
ing yourfelves  to  Complaints  and  Accufatipns  of 
God  ?  Yet  I  undertake  to  fhow  you,  that  you  have 
Qualifications  and  Occafions  for  Greatnefs  of  Soul, 
and  a  manly  Spirit :  but  what  Occafions  you  have 
to  find  Fault,  and  complain,  do  you  fhow  me. 

CHAPTER    VII. 

Of  the  Ufc  of  convertible  and  hypothetical  Propofiti- 
onsy  and  the  like, 

§.  I.  T  T  (tf)  is  a  Secret  to  the  Vulgar,  that  the 
jL  Pradtice  of  convertible,  and  hypothetical, 
and  interrogatory  Arguments,  and,  in  general,  of 
all  other  logical  Forms,  hath  any  Relation  to  th« 
Duties  of  Life.  For,  in  every  Subjed  of  Adion, 
the  Queftion  is,  how  a  wife  and  good  Man  may 
find  a  Way  of  extricating  himfelf,  and  a  Method 
of  Behavjoiir  conformable  to  his  Duty  upon  the 
Dccafioi).  Let  them  fay,  therefore,  either  that  the 
Man  of  Virtue  will  not  engage  in  Quellions  and 
Anfwers  -,  or  that,  if  he  doth,  he  will  not  think  it 
worth  his  Care  whether  he  behaves  ralhly  and  at 
hazard  in  quef.ioning  and  anfwering :  or  if  they 
allow  neithc-r  of  thefe ;  it  is  necefTary  to  confefs, 
jhat  fome  Examination  ought  to  be  made  of  thofe 
C  4  Topics, 


[a]  It  is  but  fair  to  warn  the  Re^ider,  that  little  Enter- 
tainment is  to  b«  expeftcd  froai  this  Chapter,  which  is  wholly 
logical 


i4  ^^<?  Discourses  of         Book  I. 

Topics,  in  which  the  Affair  of  Queftion  and  An- 
fwer  is  principally  concerned.  For  what  is  the 
Profeflion  of  Reafoning  ?  To  lay  down  true  Pofiti- 
ons  ;  to  rejedt  falfe  ones  •,  and  to  fufpend  the  Judgr 
ment  in  doubtful  ones.   Is  it  enough,   then,  to  have 

learned  merely   this? It  is  enough,  fay  you. 

Is  it  enough,  then,  for  him  who  would  not 

commit  any  Miltake  in  the  Ufeof  Money,  merely 
to  have  heard,  that  we  are  to  receive  the  good 

Pieces,  and  rejed  the  bad  ?■ This  is  not  enough  : 

What  mufl  be  added  befides  U That 

Faculty  which  tries  and  diflinguifhes  what  Pieces 
are  good,  what  bad. Therefore,  in  Reafon- 
ing too,  what  hath  been  already  faid  is  ndt  enough : 
but  it  is  necelTary  that  we  fhould  be  able  to  prove 
and  diflinguilh  between  the  true,  and  the  falfe,  and 
the  doubtful'            It  is  neceflary. 

§,  2.  And  what  farther  is  profefled  in  Reafon- 
ing.?  To   admit  the  Confequence   of  what 

you  have  properly  granted.— —Well :  and  here, 

too,  is  the  mere  Knowing  this  enough  ? It  is 

not ;  but  we  mufl  learn  how  fuch  a  Thing  is  the 
Confequence  of  fuch  another ;  and  when  one  Thing 
fbll'  ws  from  one  Thing,  and  when  from  many 
Things  in  common.  Is  4t  not  moreover  necefTary, 
that  he,  who  would  behave  fkilfully  in  Reafoning, 
fhould  both  himfelf  demonftrate  whatever  he  delir 
vers,  and  be  able  to  comprehend  the  Demonflra- 
tions  of  others ;  and  not  be  deceived  by  fuch  as 
fophiflicate,  as  if  they  were  demonflrating.  Hence, 
then,  the  Employment  and  Exercife  of  conclud- 
ing Arguments  and  Figures  arifes  j  and  appears  to 
be  necelfary. 

§.  3.  But  it  may  polTibly  happen,  that  from  the 
Premifes  which  v/e  have  properly  granted,  there 
arifes  fome  Confequence,  which,  though  falfe,  is 
neverthelefs  a  Confequence.     What  then  ought  I 

tD  do  ?    To  admit  a  Falfehood  ? Anc}  how  ig 

that  poffible  t^x  ,  ..Weil :  of  to  fay  that  my  Con- 
'  "  -  *     ■  ^  cellions 


Chap.?.        EPICTETUS.  25 

cellions  were  not  properly  made  ? But  new 

ther  is  this  allowed-^ Or  that  the  Confequence 

doth  not   arife  from  the   Premifes  ? < Nor  is 

even  this  allowed.— —What  then  is  to  be  done 

in  the  Cafe  ? Is  it  not  this  ?    As  the  having 

once  borrowed  Money,  is  not  enough  to  make  a 
a  Perfon  a  Debtor,  unlefs  he  ilill  continues  to  owe 
Money,  and  hatli  not  paid  it :  (b  the  having  gran- 
ted the  Premifes,  is  not  enough  to  make  it  necelTary 
to  grant  the  Inference,  unlefs  we  continue  our 
Concelfions.  If  the  Premifes  continue  to  the  End, 
fuch  as  they  were  when  the  Concellions  were  made, 
it  is  abfokitely  necellary  to  continue  the  Conceflions, 
and  to  admit  what  follows  from  them.  But  if  the 
Premifes  do  not  continue  fuch  as  they  were  when  the 
Conceflion  was  made,  it  is  abfolutely  neceflary  to  de- 
part from  the  Conceflion,  and  admit  [rather  the  con- 
trary :  I  mean]  what  doth  not  (b)  follow  from  the  Ar- 
gument itlelf.  For  this  Inference  is  no  Confequence 
of  ours,  nor  belongs  to  us,  when  we  have  depart- 
ed from  the  Conceflion  of  the  Premifes.  We  ought 
then  to  examine  thefe  Kinds  of  Premifes,  and  their 
Changes  and  Converfions,  on  which  any  one,  by 
laying  hold,  either  in  the  Quellion  itfelf,  or  in  the 
Anfwer,  or  in  the  fyllogiftical  Conclufion,  or  in  any 
other  thing  of  that  lort,  gives  an  Occafion  to  the 
Unthinking  of  being  difconcerted,  not  forefeeing 

the   Confequence. Why  fo  ^^ That   in 

this  Topic  we  may  not  behave  contrary  to  our  Duty, 
nor  with  Confufion. 

§.  4.    The  fame  Thjng  is  to  be  obferved  in  Hy- 
pi)thefes  and  hypothetical   Arguments.      For  it  is 

fome- 

fh)  The  PafTage  Teems  to  require  that  aj-axoAaQov  fhould  be 
icxqpKe^ov ;  We  are  to  depart  from  the  Concejfion^  and  admit  n^:hat 
JqUo^kh  from  the  Argument  itfelf.  The  Meaning  I  apprehend  to 
be,  that  if,  in  the  Courfe  of  an  Argument,  our  Opponent  fo- 
phillically  alters  the  State  of  the  Queftion  on  which  our  Con- 
cellions v/ere  founded,  it  is  lawful  to  revoke  thofe  Conceflions; 
^aA  admit  no  Confequence  but  what  is  faiily  drawn  from  the 
4.i"Suniem  itfelf. 


26  The  Discourses  of         Book  I. 

Sometimes  neceflary  to  require  Ibme  Hypothefis  to 
be  granted,  as  a  kind  of  Step  to  the  refl  of  the  Ar^ 
gument.  Is  every  given  Hypothefis  then  to  be 
granted,  or  not  every  one ;  and  if  not  every  one, 
which  ?  And  is  he  who  has  granted  an  Hypothe- 
fis,  for  ever  to  abide  by  it  f  Or  is  he  fometimes  to 
depart  from  it,  and  admit  only  Conlequences,  but 

pot   to  admit  Contradidtions  ? r~  Ay  :    but  a 

Perlbn  may  fay,  on  your  admitting  the  Hypothefis 
of  a  Poffibility,  I  will  drive  you  upon  an  JnipoOi- 
bility.  With  fuch  a  one  as  this,  fhall  the  Man  of 
Prudence  not  engage  •,  but  avoid  all  Examination 

^nd  Converfition  with  him  r— ^ And  yet  who, 

befides  the  Man  of  Prudence,  is  capable  of  treat- 
ing an  Argument,  or  who  befides  isfagacious  inQue- 
ftions  and  Anfwers,  and  incapable  of  being  degsiv- 

ed  and  impofed  on  by  Sophiftry  ? Or  will  he 

indeed  engage,  but  without  regarding  whether  he 
behaves  rafhly  and  at  hazard  in  the  Argument  ? 

f— ' Yet  hov/  then  can  he  be  fuch  a  one  as  we 

are  fuppofing  him  ?  But,  without  fbme  fuch  Exer- 
cife  and  Preparation,  is  it  poflible  for  him  to  pre- 
ferve  himfeif  confident  ?  Let  them  fhew  this :  and 
^11  thefe  Theorems  will  be  fuperfluous  and  abfurd, 
and  unconnedted  with  our  Idea  of  the  virtuous  Man. 
Why  then  are  we  ftill  indolent,  and  flothfuj,  and 
fluggifii,  feeking  Pretences  of  avoiding  Labour  ? 
Shall  we  not  be  watchful  to  render  Reafbn  itfelf 

accurate? -^'  But  fuppofe,  after  all,  I  fhould 

■ '  make  a  Miftake  in  thefe  Points  :  have  I  killed  a 

Father  r Wretch  !    why,   in  this  Cafe,  where 

had  you  a  Father  to  kill  ?  What  is  it  then  that  yon 
have  done  ?  The  only  Fault  that  you  could  com- 
iTiit,  in  this  Inftance,  you  have  committed.  This 
very  Thing  I  myfeif  faid  to  Rufus^  when  he  re-, 
proved  me,  for  not  finding  fomething  that  was 
omitted  in  fome  Syllogifm.  Why,  faid  I,  have  I 
burnt  the  Capitol  then  ?  Wretch !  anfwered  he, 
v/as  the  Thing  here  omitted  the  Capitol  ?    Or  are 

there 


Chap  8.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S/  27 

there  no  other  Faults,  but  burning  the  Capitol,  or 
killing  a  Father  ?  and  is  it  no  Fault  to  treat  the 
Appearances  prefented  to  our  Minds  rafiily,  and 
vainly,  and  at  hazard  -,  not  to  comprehend  a  Rear 
fon,  nor  a  Demonftration,  nor  a  Sophifm;  nor, 
in  (hort,  to  fee  what  is  for,  or  againft  one's  felf 
in  a  Quellion  or  Anfwer  ?  Is  nothing  of  all  thi,§ 
any  Fault  ? 

CHAPTER    VIII. 

T'hat  Faculties  are  net  fcfe  to  the  Unirifiru^ed, 

§.  I.  T  N  as  many  Ways  as  equivalent  Syllogifms 
JL  may  be  varied,  in  fo  many  may  the  Forms 
of  Arguments,  and  Enthymemas,  be  varied  like- 
wife.  As  for  Inftance :  If  you  had  borro'wedy  and 
not  paid^  you  owe  me  Money.  But  you  have  not  hor-^ 
rowed,  and  not  paid  j  tJ^refore  you  do  mt  owe  me 
Money,  To  perform  this  fkilfully,  belongs  to  no 
one  more  than  to  a  Philofopher.  For  if  an  Enthy- 
mema  be  an  imperfect  Syllogifm  ;  he  who  is  exer- 
cifed  in  a  perfect  Syllogifm,  muft  be  equally  ready 
at  an  imperfedl  one. 

(a)  Why  then  do  not  we  exercife  ourfelves  and 
othf  rs,  after  this  Manner  ? 

Becaufe,  even  now,  though  we  are  not  exercifed 
in  thefe  Things,  nor  diverted,  by  mc,  at  leafb, 
from  the  Study  of  Morality  ;  yet  we  make  no  Ad- 
vances in  Virtue.  What  is  to  be  expected  then  if 
we  lliould  add  this  Avocation  too .?  Efpecially,  as 
it  would  not  only  be  an  Avocation  from  more  ne- 
cefTary  Studies,  but  likewiie  a  capital  Occafion  of 
Conceit  and  Infolence.  For  the  Faculty  of  argu- 
ing, and  of  perfuafive  Reafoning  is  great;  and, 
particularly,  if  it  be  much  laboured,  and  receive 
an  additional  Ornam.ent  from  Rhetoric.     For,  in 

general, 

(a)  This  is  rpoken  by  one  of  the  Audience, 


£8  ^he  Discourses^/        Book  I. 

general,  every  Facility  is  dangerous  to  weak  and 
iminftrudled  Perfons ;  as  being  apt  to  render  them 
arrogant  and  elated.  For  by  what  Method  can  one 
perluade  a  young  Man,  who  excells  in  thefe 
Kinds  of  Study,  that  he  ought  not  to  be  an  Appen- 
dix to  them,  but  they  to  him  ?  Will  he  not  trample 
upon  all  fuch  Advice  ;  and  walk  about  elated,  and 
puffed  up,  not  bearing  any  one  (hould  touch  him, 
to  put  him  in  mind,  where  he  is  wanting,  and  in 
what  he  goes  wrong. 

What  then,  was  not  Plato  a  Philofopher  ?  # 
Well,  and  was  not  Hippocrates  a  Phyfician  ?  Yet 
you  fee  [how  elegantly]  he  expreffes  himfelf.  But 
is  it  in  Quality  of  Phyfician,  then,  that  he  exprelles 
himfelf  lo  ?  Why  do  you  confound  Things,  acci- 
dentally united,  from  different  Caufes,  in  the  fame 
Men?  If  Plato  was  handfome  and  well-made, 
mull  I  too  fet  myfelf  to  endeavour  at  becoming 
handfome  and  well-made ;  as  if  this  was  neceflary 
to  Philofophy,  becaufe  a  certain  Perfon  happened 
to  be  at  once  handfome  and  a  Philofopher  ?  W^hy 
will  you  not  perceive  and  difbinguifh  what  are  the 
Things  that  make  Men  Philofophers,  and  what  be- 
long to  them  on  other  Accounts  ?  Pray,  if  I  (b)  were 
a  Piiilofopher,  would  it  be  neceffary  that  you  flioul4 
be  lame  too  ? 

§.2,. 

(h)  EptSIetus,  whenever  he  has  Occafion  to  mention  himr 
felf,  fpeaks  with  remarkable  Modefty  ;  and  in  a  Stile  very  dif- 
ferent from  that  of  many  of  the  more  ancient  Philofophers  :  as 
appears  by  the  feveral  arrogant  Speeches  recorded  of  them  by 
pio^er.esLaerths,  &c.  It  is  probable  he  might  improve  in  this 
humble  Difpofition,  by  the  Charafter  of  Socrates,  which  he 
feems  particularly  to  have  ftudied,  and  admired.  Yet  other 
rhilorophers  had  ftudied  and  admired  the  fame  Charadler, 
without  profiring  by  it.  Perhaps  the  fober  and  unaiTuming 
Temper  of  Chriftianity  might,  from  the  Example  of  its  Pro- 
feftbr;;  in  thofe  Days,  have  produced  this,  and  other  good  Ef- 
ftds,  in  the  Minds'of  many  who  knew  little,  if  any  thing,  of 
the  Gofpel  itreif. 


Chap.  9.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  2^ 

§.2.  What  then?  Do  I  rejed  thefe  Faculties? 
By  no  means.  For  neither  do  I  rejed:  the  Facul- 
ty of  Seeing.  But  if  you  afk  me,  what  is  the  Good 
of  Man  ;  I  have  nothing  elfe  to  fay  to  you,  but  that 
it  is  a  certain  Regulation  of  the  Choice,  with  regard 
to  the  Appearances  of  Things. 

CHAPTER    IX. 

How  from  the  Do5lrine  of  our  Kindred  to  God,  we 
are  to  proceed  to  its  Confequences, 

i  I.  TF  what  Philofophers  fay  of  the  Kindred 
J.  between  God  and  Man  be  true ;  what  has 
any  one  to  do,  but,  like  Socrates,  when  he  is  afked 
what  Countryman  he  is,  never  to  fay  that  he  is  a 
Citizen  o^  Athens,  or  of  Corinth  ;  but  of  the  World  ^ 
For  why  do  you  fay  that  you  are  of  Athens :  and 
not  of  that  Corner  only,  where  that  paultry  Body 
of  yours  was  laid  at  its  Birth  i»  Is  it  not,  evident- 
ly,  from  what  is  principal,  and  comprehends  not 
only  that  Corner,  and  your  whole  Houfe;  but  the 
general  Extent  of  the  Country,  from  which  your 
Pedigree  is  derived  down  to  you,  that  you  call 
yourfelf  an  Athenian,  or  a  Corinthian  P     Why  may 

^?  1.^'^.xl^^"'  '^^'^  underflands  the  Adminiftration 
ot  the  World ;  and  has  learned  that  the  greatefl 
and  moil  principal,  and  comprehenfive,  of  all 
1  hings,  is  this  Syflem,  compofed  of  Men  and  God  • 
and  that  from  Him  the  Seeds  of  Being  are  defcend- 
u^^^  ^"^y  ^o  ^y  Father  or  Grandfather,  but  to 
all  Filings  that  are  produced  and  born  on  Earth  • 
and  efpecially  to  rational  Natures,  as  they  alone  are 
quauhed  to  partake  of  a  Communication  with  the 
Deny,  being  conneded  with  him  by  Reafon:  Why 

m^;T^  ^^"i?^  ^  ''''^^  ^^^^  ^''"^^^^^  a  Citizen  of  the 
World. ^    Why  not  a  Son  of  God  ?    And,   why 

cu    ,  J.  ^f^^-'^^y  thing  that  happens  among  Men  ? 
i>hall  Kindred   to  C^far,  or  any  other  of  the  Great 


at 


go  ne  Discou  rses'</.  Book  L 

itt  Rome^  enable  a  Man  to  live  fecure^  above  Con- 
tempt, and  void  of  all  Fear  whatever:  and  fhall 
not  the  having  God  for  our  Maker,  and  Father, 
and  Guardian,  free  us  from  Griefs  and  Terrors  ? 

§.  2.  *'  But  how  fhall  I  fubfift  ?  For  I  have  no- 
^'  thing." 

Why,  how  do  Slaves,  how  do  Fugitives  ?  To 
what  do  they  truft,  when  they  run  away  from  their 
Mailers?  Is  it  to  their  Eflates?  Their  Servants ? 
Their  Plate  ?  To  nothing  but  themfelves.  Yet 
they  do  not  fail  to  get  Neceffaries.  And  mufl  a 
Philofbpher,  think  you,  v/hen  he  leaves  his  own 
Abode,  reft  and  rely  upon  others  \  and  not  take 
care  of  himfelf  ?  Muft  he  be  more  helplefs  and 
anxious  than  the  brute  Beafts  •,  each  of  which  is 
feif-fufficient,  and  wants  neither  proper  Food,  nor 
any  fui table  and  natural  Provifion  ?  One  would 
think,  there  fhould  be  no  Need  for  an  old  Fellow 
to  fit  here  contriving,  that  you  may  not  think 
meanly,  nor  entertain  low  and  abjedt  Notions  of 
yourfelves :  but  that  his  Eufmefs  would  be,  to  take 
care,  that  there  may  not  happen  to  be  [among 
you]  young  Men  of  fuch  a  Spirit,  that,  knowing 
their  Affinity  to  the  Gods  \  and  that  we  are  as  it 
were  fettered  by  the  Body  and  its  Poffeflions,  and 
by  fo  many  other  Things  as  are  neceffary,  upon 
thefe  Accounts,  for  the  Oeconomy  and  Commerce 
of  Life  ;  they  fhould  refolve  to  throw  them  off,  as 
both  troublefome  and  ufelefs,  and  depart  to  their 
Kindred. 

§.  3.  This  is  the  Work,  if  any,  that  ought  to 
employ  your  Mafter  and  Preceptor,  if  you  had 
one :  that  you  fhould  come  to  him,  and  fay  ; 
''  Epi^etus^  we  can  no  longer  bear  being  tied 

down  to  this  paultry  Body  :  feeding  and  refting, 

and  cleaning  it,  and  hurried  about  with  fo  many 
'•  lov/  Cares  on  its  Account.  Are  not  thefe  Things 
'*  indifferent,  and  nothing  to  us :  and  Death  no 
*'  Evil?    Are  not  we  Relations  cf  God  ;  and  did 


i( 


*«  we 


Chap.  9.        EPICTETUS.  31 

*'  we  not  come  from  him  ?  Suffer  us  to  go  back 
*'  thither  from  whence  we  came :  fuffer  us,  at 
**  length,  to  be  delivered  from  thefe  Fetters,  that 
"  chain  and  weigh  us  dov/n.  Here,  Thieves  and 
"  Robbers,  and  Courts  of  Judicature,  and  thofe 
"  who  are  called  Tyrants,  feem  to  have  fome 
"  Power  over  us,  on  account  of  the  Body  and  its 
*'  PofiefTions.  Suffer  us  to  fhow  them,  that  they 
**  have  no  Power." 

§.  4.  And  in  this  Cafe  it  would  be  my  Part  to 
anfwer  :  "  My  Friends,  wait  for  God,  till  he  fhall 
''  give  the  Signal,  and  difmifs  you  from  this  Ser- 
^^  vice  :  then  return  to  him.  For  the  prefenr,  be 
'^  content  to  remain  in  this  Pofl,  where  he  has 
"  placed  you.  The  Time  of  your  Abode  here  is 
**  fhort,  and  eafy  to  fuch  as  are  difpofed  like  you  : 
"  For  what  Tyrant,  what  Robber,  what  Thief, 
"  or  what  Courts  of  Judicature  are  formidable  to 
*'  thofe,  who  thus  account  the  Body,  and  its  Pof- 
"  feflions,  as  nothing  ?  Stay.  Depart  not  incon- 
*'  fiderately." 

§.  5.  Thus  ought  the  Cafe  to  Hand  between  a 
Preceptor  and  ingenuous  young  Men.  But  how 
flands  it  now  ^  The  Preceptor  has  no  Life  in  him  : 
you  have  none  neither.  When  you  have  had 
enough  To-day,  you  fit  weeping  about  To-mor- 
row, how  you  fhall  get  Food.  Why,  if  you  have 
it.  Wretch,  you  will  have  it :  if  not  you  will  go 
out  of  Life.  The  Door  is  open  :  why  do  you  la- 
ment? What  room  doth  there  remain  for  Tears? 
What  Occafion  for  Flattery  ?  Why  fhould  any  one 
Perfon  envy  another  ?  Why  fhould  he  be  flruck 
with  awful  Admiration  of  thofe  who  have  great 
Poffeffions,  or  are  placed  in  high  Rank,  [as  is  com- 
mon,]  ?  Efpecially,  if  they  are  powerful  and  paf- 
fionate.i^  For  what  will  they  do  to  us?  The 
Things  which  tbey  can  do,  we  do  not  regard :  the 
Things  which  we  are  concerned  about,  ibey  can- 
not do.     Who  then,  after  all,  fhall  command  a 

Perfon 


32  The  Discourse^  of        Bobk  f. 

Perfbn  thus  difpoled  ?  How  was  Socrates  affeded 
by  thefe  Things  ?  As  it  became  one  perfuaded  of 
his  being  a  Relation  of  the  Gods.  ''  If  youfhould 
*'  tell  me  (fays  he  to  his  Judges),  we  will  acquit 
*'  you,  upon  Condition  that  you  fhall  no  longer 
*'  difcourfe  in  the  Manner  you  have  hitherto  done, 
*'  nor  make  any  Diflurbance  either  among  our 
*'  young  or  our  old  People ;"  I  would  anfwer  ; 
"  You  are  ridiculous  in  thinking,  that  if  your  Ge- 
*'  neral  had  placed  me  in  any  Poll,  I  ought  to 
"  maintain  and  defend  it,  and  chufe  to  die  a  thou- 
*'  fand  times,  rather  than  defert  it :  but  if  God 
*'  hath  alfigned  me  any  Station  or  Method  of  Life, 
"  that  I  ought  to  defert  that  for  you."  (a) 

§.  6.  This  it  is,  for  a  Man  to  be  truly  a  Relation 
of  God.  But  we  confider  ourfelves  as  a  mere 
Aifemblage  of  Stomach  and  Entrails,  and  bodily 
Parts.  Becaufe  we  fear,  becaufe  we  defire;  we 
flatter  thofe  who  can  help  us  in  thefe  Matters  j  wc 
dread  the  very  fame  Perfons. 

§.  7.  A  Perfon  defired  me  once  to  write  for  him 
to  Rome,  He  was  one  vulgarly  efteemed  unfortu- 
nate, as  he  had  been  formerly  illuftrious  and  rich, 
and  afterwards  ftript  of  all  his  PofTelTions,  and  re- 
duced to  live  here.  I  wrote  for  him  in  a  fubmiflive 
Stile  :  but,  after  reading  my  Letter,  he  returned 
it  to  me,  and  faid  ;  "  I  wanted  your  Alfiflance, 
''  not  your  Pity  ;  for  no  Evil  hath  befallen  me." 

§.  8  (b)  Thus  Rufus^  to  try  nie,  ufed  to  fay, 
this  or  that  you  will  have  from  your  Mailer.  When 
I  anfwered  him,  thefe  are  [uncertain]  human  Af- 
fairs :    Why  then,  fays  he,  Ihould  I  intercede  with 

him 


(a)  Ah  «f*a?  Ihould  probably  be  h  vV«5»    and  is  fo  tran- 

Ilated. 

(b)  This  Paflage  has  great  Difficulties,  which  I  know  not 
how  to  folve,  any  otherv/ife  than  by  fuppofing  fomething  aftci 
gi,y^^oiXim  to  be  loit. 


Chap.  lo.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S:  3^ 

him  (0,  when  you  can  receive  thefe  Things  from 
yourfelf  ?  For  what  one  hath  of  his  own,  it  is  fu- 
perfluous  and  vain  to  receive  from  another.  Shall 
1  then,  who  can  receive  Greatnefs  of  Soul  and  a 
manly  Spirit  from  myfelf,  receive  an  Eftate,  or  a 
Sum  of  Money,  or  a  Place,  from  you  ?  Heaven 
forbid  !  I  will  not  be  fo  infenfible  of  my  own  Pof- 
fefTions.  But,  if  a  Perfon  is  fearful  and  abjed, 
what  elfe  is  neceffary,  but  to  write  Letters  for 
him  as  if  he  was  dead.  "  Pray  oblige  us  with  the 
*'  Corpfe  and  Blood  of  fuch  a  one."  For,  in  fadl, 
fuch  a  one  is  Corpfe  and  Blood  ;  and  nothing  more. 
For,  if  he  was  any  thing  more,  he  would  be  fenfi- 
ble,  that  one  Man  is  not  rendered  unfortunate  by 
another. 

CHAPTER    X. 

Concerning  Tbofe    who  ftrovff  for  Preferments  at 
Rome. 

§.  i.TF  we  all  applied  ourfelves  as  heartily  to  our 
J.  proper  Eufinefs,  as  the  old  Fellows  at  Ro7ne 
do  to  their  Schemes  -,  perhaps  we  too  might  make 
fome  Proficiency.  I  know  a  Man  older  than  I  am, 
and  who  is  now  Superintendant  ofProvifions  at 
Rome.  When  he  paft  through  this  Place,  on  his 
Return  from  Exile,  what  an  Account  did  he  give 
me  of  his  former  Life !  and  how  did  he  promife, 
that  for  the  future,  when  he  was  got  back,  he 
would  apply  himfelf  to  nothing  but  how  to  fpend 
the  Remainder  of  his  Days  in  Repde  and  Tranquil- 
lity.    "  For  hov/  few  have  I  now  remaining  !" 

You  will  not  do  it,  faid  I.     When  you  are  once  got 

within  the  Smell  of  Rc7nr\  you  will  forget  all  this  : 

and,  if  you  can  but  once  gain  Admittance  to  Court, 

D  yon 

(0  The  Tranflaror  follows  Mr.  Upton's  Conjeflure  In  ^h*s 
Piace,  and  chs  Fren:h  Verfion  agrees  v.ith  it. 


34-  ^^  Discourses  of  Book L 

you  will  {a)  go  in,  heartily  rejoiced,  and  thank 
God.  *'  If  you  ever  find  me,  Epi^etus^  faid  he, 
**  putting  one  Foot  into  the  Court,  think  of  me 
*'  whatever  you  pleafe."  Now,  after  all,  how  did 
he  adt  ?  Before  he  entered  the  City,  he  was  met  by 
a  Billet  from  Cafar.  On  receiving  it,  he  forgot  all 
his  former  Refolutions ;  and  has  ever  fince  been 
heaping  up  one  Incumbrance  upon  another.  I 
Ihould  be  glad  now,  to  have  an  Opportunity  of 
putting  him  in  mind  of  his  Difcourfe  upon  the 
Road  •,  and  of  faying,  how  mAich  more  clever  a 
Prophet  am  I  than  you  ! 

§  2.  What  then  do  I  fay  ?  that  Man  is  made 
for  an  inactive  Life  ?  No,  furely.  "  But  why  is 
*'  not  ours  a  Life  of  Adivity  ?"  For  my  own  part, 
as  fbon  as  it  is  Day,  I  recoiled  a  little  what  Things 
I  am  to  read  over  again  [with  my  Pupils],  and 
then  fay  to  myfelf  quickly.  What  is  it  to  me  how 
fuch  a  one  reads  ?  My  chief  Point  is  to  get  to  fleep. 

§  3.  But,  indeed,  what  Likenefs  is  there  between 
the  Adions  of  thefe  [old  Fellows  at  Rome]  and  ours? 
If  you  confider  what  it  is  they  do,  you  will  fee. 
For  about  what  are  they  employed  the  whole  Day, 
but  in  calculating,  contriving,  confulting,  about 
Provifions  -,  about  an  Eflate  ;  or  other  Emoluments 
like  thefe  ?  Is  there  any  Likelinefs,  then,  between 

reading  fuch  a  Petition  from  any  one,  as "  / 

"  intreat  you  to  give  me  a  Permijion  to  export  Corn  ;" 

and "  1  intreat  you  to  learn  from  Chryfippus,  of 

"  vjhat  Nature  the  Adminiftration  of  the  World  is  ; 
*'  and  what  Place  a  reafonahle  Creature  holds  in  it. 
*'  Learn y  too^  what  you  y our f elf  are  ;  and  wherein 
*'  your  Good  and  Evil  confijls."  Are  thefe  Things 
at  all  alike  ?  Do  they  require  an  equal  Degree  of 

Appli- 

(a)  EcrsTaj  probab/y  ftould  be  Etcr»£<r«»,  and  the  Trench 
Tranflator  feems  to  have  followed,  and  made  the  fame  Con- 
jedure. 


Chap,  ii:      EPICTETUS.  ^S 

Application  ?  And  is  it  as  Ihameful  to  negled  the 
one  as  the  other  (^)  ? 

§  4.  Well,  then,  are  we  Preceptors  the  only 
idle  Dreamers  ?  No  :  but  you  young  Men  are  fo 
firft,  in  a  greater  Degree.  And  fo  even  we  old 
Folks,  when  we  fee  young  ones  trifling,  are  tempt- 
ed to  grow  fond  of  trifling  with  them.  Much  more, 
then,  if  I  was  to  fee  you  adive  and  diligent,  I 
fhould  be  excited  to  join  with  you  in  ferious  Indu- 
flry. 

CHAPTER    XI; 

Of  Natural  Affe5lion, 

§.  T.  TT7HEN  one  of  the  great  Men  came  to 
W  vifit  him ;  Epicietus^  having  inquired 
into  the  Particulars  of  his  Affairs,  afked  him.  Whe- 
ther he  had  a  Wife  and  Children  .?  The  other  re- 
plying, that  he  had  ;  Epi£fetus  iikewife  inquired. 
In  what  Manner  do  you  live  with  them  ?  Very  mi- 
ferably,  fays  he How  fo  ,?  For  Men  do  not  mar- 
ry, and  get  Children,  to  be  miferable  ^  but  rather 

to  make  themfelves  happy, But,  I  am  fo  very 

miferable  about  my  Children,  that  the  other  Day, 
when  my  Daughter  was  fick,  and  appeared  to  be 
in  Danger ;  I  could  not  bear  even  to  be  with  her ; 
but  ran  away,  till  it  was  told  me  that  flhie  was  re- 
covered.  And  pray  do  you  think  this  was  add- 
ing right  ?  It  was  ading  naturally,  faid  he. 

Well  :  do  but  convince  me  that  it  was  acting  na- 
turally, and  I  will  convince  jy^«  that  every  thing  na- 
tural is  right. All,  or  moft  of  us  Fathers  are 

affecled  in  the  fame  Way. 1  do  not  deny  the 

Fadt  :  tut  the  Quefliion  between  us  is,  whether  it 

D  2  be 

[h)  This  PalTage  has  a  ftriking  Refemblance  to  that  in  Scrip- 
ture, where  the  Children  of  this  World  are  faid  to  be  vvifer 
in  their  Generation  than  the  Children  of  Light. 


$6  The  Discourses  of        Book  L 

be  right.  For,  by  this  Way  of  Reafonmg,  k  muft 
be  faid,  that  Tumours  happen  for  the  Good  of  the 
Body,  becaufe  they  do  happen  :  and  even  that 
Vices  are  natural,  becaufe  all  or  the  moft  Part  of 
us  are  guilty  of  them.  Do  you  (how  me  then  how 
fuch  a  Behaviour  as  yours,  appears  to  be  natural. 

I  cannot  undertake  that.  But  do  you  rather 
fhow  me,  how  it  appears  to  be  neither  natural,  nor 
right. 

If  we  were  difputing  about  Black  and  White, 
what  Criterion  mufl  we  call  in,  to  diflinguifh 
them  ? 

The  Sight. 

If  about  Hot  and  Cold,  and  Hard  and  Soft, 
what  ? 

The  Touch. 

Well  then  :  when  we  are  debating  about  Na- 
tural and  Unnatural,  and  Right  and  Wrong ; 
what  Criterion  are  we  to  take  ? 

I  cannot  tell. 

And  yet,  to  be  ignorant  of  a  Criterion  of  Co- 
lours, or  of  Smells,  or  Taftes,  might  perhaps  be 
no  very  great  Lofs.  But  do  you  think,  that  he 
fufFers  only  a  fmall  Lofs,  who  is  ignorant  of 
what  is  Good  and  Evil,  and  Natural  and  Unna- 
tural, to  Man  ? 

No.     The  very  greateftv 

Well  :  tell  me  ;  Are  all  Things  which  are 
judged  good  and  proper  by  fome,  rightly  judged 
to  be  fb .''  Is  it  poflible,  that  the  feveral  Opini- 
ons of  JewSy  and  Syrians ^  and  Egyptians,  and 
Romans^  concerning  Food,    fhould   all  be  right  ? 

How  can  it  be  poflible  ? 

I  fuppofe  then,  it  is  abfolntely  neceflary,  if  the 
Opinions  of  the  Egyptians  be  right,  the  others 
muft  be  wrong  :  if  thofe  of  the  Jews  be  good^ 
all  the  reft  muft  be  bad. 

How  can  it  be  otherwife  ? 

And 


Chap.   II.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  37 

And  where  Ignorance  is,  there  likewife  is  Want 
of  Learning,  and  Inllrudion,  in  n.ecefrary  Points. 

It  is  granted. 

Then,  as  you  are  fenfible  of  this,  you  will  for 
the  future  apply  to  nothing,  and  think  of  nothing 
elfe,  but  how  to  acquaint  yourfelf  with  the  Criterion 
of  what  is  agreeable  to  Nature  :  and  to  ufe  that  in 
judging  of  each  particular  Cafe. 

§.  2.  At  prefent  the  Afliftance  I  have  to  give 
you,  towards  what  you  defire,  is  this.  Doth  Af- 
fedion  feem  to  you  to  be  a  rigiit  and  ^  natural 
Thing  (a)  ^ 

How  fhould  it  be  otherwife  ? 

Well  :  and  is  AfFedion  natural  and  right,  and 
Reafon  not  fo  ? 

By  no  means. 

Is  there  any  Oppofitiop,  then,  between  Reafon 
aiid  AfFeaion  ? 

I  think  noc 

If  there  was,  of  two  Oppofites  if  one  be  natu- 
ral, the  other  mufl  neceffariiy  be  unnatural.  Muft 
it  not  ? 

It  muft. 

"What  we  find,  then,  at  once  affedionate,  and 
reafonable,  thai  we  may  fafely  pronounce  to  be 
right  and  good. 

Agreed. 

Well,  then  :  you  will  not  difpute,  but  that  to 
run  away,  and  leave  a  fick  Child,  is  contrary  to 
Reafon.  It  remains  for  us  to  confider,  whether 
it  be  confiflent  with  Affedion. 

Let  us  confider  it. 

Did  you,  then,  from  an  Affedion  to  your  Child, 
do  right  in  running  away,  and  leaving  her  ^  Hath 
hpr  Mother  no  Affection  for  the  Child  ? 

D  3  Yes, 

(a)  The  Stoics  (ny,  that  wife  and  good  Men  have  the  trulf 
natural  AfFettion  towards  their  Children  ;  artd  bad  Perfons  have 
it  not.     DioQ.  }-AUK.T.    L.  vlj.  §.  120. 


38  "^he  Discourses  of         Book  I, 

Yes,  furely,  (he  hath. 

Would  it  have  been  right,  then,  that  her  Mo- 
ther too  Ihould  leave  her  ;  or  would  it  not  ? 

It  would  not. 

And  doth  not  her  Nurfe  love  her  ? 

She  doth. 

Then  ought  not  fhe  likewife  to  leave  her  ? 

By  no  means. 

And  doth  not  her  Preceptor  love  her  ? 

He  doth. 

Then  ought  not  he  alfo  to  have  run  away, 
and  left  her  :  and  fo  the  Child  to  have  been 
left  alone,  and  unafiifted,  from  the  great  Affec- 
tion of  her  Parents,  and  her  Friends  ;  or  to  die 
in  the  Hands  of  People,  who  neither  loved  her, 
nor  took  care  of  her. 

Heaven  forbid  ! 

But  is  it  not  unreafonable  and  unjuft,  that  what 
you  think  right  in  yourfelf,  on  the  Account  of  your 
Affedion  ;  fhould  not  be  allowed  to  others,  who 
have  the  very  fame  Affedion  as  you  ? 

It  is  abfurd. 

Pray,  if  you  were  fick  yourfelf,  fhould  you  be 
willing  to  have  your  family,  and  even  your  Wife 
and  Children,  fo  very  afFedlionate,  as  to  Jeave 
you  helplefs  and  alone  ^ 

By  no  means. 

Or  would  you  wifh  to  be  fo  loved  by  your 
Friends,  as  from  their  exceHive  AfFedion,  always 
to  be  left  alone  when  you  were  fick  ?  Or  would 
you  not  rather  wifh,  if  it  were  pollible,  to  have 
llich  a  Kind  of  Affedion  from  your  Enemies, 
as  to  make  them  always  keep  from  you  ?  If  fo, 
it  remains,  that  your  Behaviour  was  by  no  means 
aiTedionate.  Well  then  :  was  it  merely  nothing 
that  induced  you  to  defert  your  Child  } 

How  is  that  poiTible  } 

No  :  but  it  was  fome  fuch  Motive,  as  induced  a 
Perfon  at  Rome  to  hide  his  Face  while  a  Horfe  was 

running. 


Chap  ii;         E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  39 

running,  to  which  he  earneftly  wiflied  Succefs  ; 
and  when,  beyond  his  Expedtation,  it  won  th6 
Race  J  he  was  obliged  to  have  Recourfe  to  Spunges, 
to  recover  his  Senfes. 

And  what  was  diis  Motive  ? 

At  prefent  perhaps  it  cannot  be  accurately  ex- 
plained. It  is  fufficient  to  be  convinced,  (if  what 
Philolbphers  fay  be  true)  that  we  are  not  to  feek  it 
from  without :  but  that  there  is  univerfally  one  and 
the  fame  Caufe,  which  moves  us  to  do  or  forbear 
any  Adion ;  to  fpeak  or  not  to  fpeak ;  to  be  elated 
or  deprefled  ;  to  avoid  or  purfue :  that  very  Caufe 
which  hath  now  moved  us  two ;  you,  to  come, 
and  fit  and  hear  me  -,  and  me,  to  fpeak  as  I  do. 

And  what  is  that  ? 

Is  it  any  thing  elfe,  thjan  that  it  feemed  right 
to  us  to  do  fb  ? 

Nothing  elfe. 

And  if  it  had  feemed  otherwife  to  us,  what  fhould 
we  have  done  elfe  than  what  we  thought  right  ? 
This,  and  not  the  Death  of  Patroclus^  was  the 
Caufe  of  Lamentation  to  Achilles^  (for  every  Man  is 
not  thus  affedled  by  the  Death  of  a  Friend)  that  it 
feemed  right  to  him.  This  too  was  the  Caufe  of 
your  running  away  from  your  Child,  that  it  feemed 
right :  and  if  hereafter  you  fhould  flay  with  her,  it 
will  be  becaufe  that  feemed  right.  You  are  now 
returning  to  Ro^ne^  becaufe  it  feems  right  to  you  : 
but  if  you  fhould  alter  your  Opinion,  you  will  not 
return.  In  a  word  neither  Death,  nor  Exile,  nor 
Pain,  nor  any  thing  of  this  Kind,  is  the  Caufe  of 
our  doing,  or  not  doing,  any  A6tion  :  but  our  Opi- 
pions  and  Principles.  Do  I  convince  you  of  this, 
or  not } 

You  do. 

§.  3.  Well  then  :  fuch  as  the  Caufe  is,  fuch  will 
be  the  EfFedt.  From  this  Day  forward,  then,  when- 
ever we  do  any  thing  wrong,  we  will  impute  it  on- 
ly to  the  Principle  from  which  we  adl :  and  we  will 
endeavour  to  remove  that,  and  cut  it  up  by  the 
D  4  Roots, 


40  The  Discourses  of         Book  I. 

Roots,  with  greater  Care  than  we  would  Wens  and 
Tumours  from  the  Body.  In  like  manner,  we  will 
afcribe  what  we  do  right,  to  the  fame  Caufe  :  and 
we  will  accufe  neither  Servant,  nor  Neighbour,  nor 
Wife,  nor  Children,  as  the  Caufes  of  any  Evils  to 
ns  ;  perfuaded,  that  if  we  had  not  fuch  Principles, 
fuch  Confequences  would  not  follow.  Of  thefe 
Principles  we  ourfeives,  and  not  Externals,  are  the 
Maflers. 

Agreed. 

From  this  Day,  then,  we  will  neither  confider 
nor  enquire  of  what  Sort,  or  in  what  Condition, 
any  thing  is ;  our  Eftate,  or  Slaves,  or  Horfes,  or 
Dogs,  but  only  our  Principles, 

I  wifh  to  do  it. 

You  fee,  then,  that  it  is  necefTary  for  you  to  be- 
come a  Scholar  :  that  Kind  of  Animal  which  every 
one  laughs  at  •,  if  you  really  defire  to  make  an  Ex- 
amination of  your  Principles.  But  this,  as  you  are 
fenfible,  is  not  the  Work  of  an  Hour  or  a  Day. 

CHAPTER    XII. 

Of  Conlentment, 

§.  i.^ONCERNINGtheGods,fomeaffirm, 
V-y  that  there  is  no  Deity  :  others,  that  he 
indeed  exiils  -,  but  (lothful,  negligent,  and  without 
a  Providence  :  a  third.  Sort  admit  both  his  Being 
and  Providence,  but  only  in  great  and  heavenly 
Objeds,  and  in  nothing  upon  Earth  :  a' fourth,  both 
in  Heaven  and  Earth  ;  but  only  in  general,  not  Indi- 
viduals :  a  fifth  like  Ulyjj^s  and  Socrates  {a)  : 

O  '•Jhou^  ijoho^  ever  prefent  in  my  PVay^ 
D^jl  all  my  Motions^  all  my  TcaIs  furvey. 

Pope's  Homer. 
It 

{a^  It  was  the  Opinion  of  Socrates ,  That  the  Gods  know  all 
Things  that  are  either  faid  or  done,  or  filently  thought  on  : 
that  they  are  every  where  prefent,  and  give  Significations  to 
jVla.nkind  concerning  all  human  Affairs.     Xen.  Mem.  L.  i. 


Cheip.  12.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  41 

It  is,  before  all  things,  neceflary  to  examine  each 
of  thefe*,  which  is,  and  which  is  not,  rightly  faid. 
Now,  if  there  are  no  Gods,  how  is  it  our  End  to 
follow  them  ?  If  there  are,  but  they  take  no  Care 
of  any  thing ;  how  will  it  be  right,  in  this  Cafe,  to 
follow  them  ?  Or,  if  they  both  are,  and  take  Care ; 
yet,  if  there  is  nothing  communicated  from  them 
to  Men,  nor  indeed  to  myfelf  in  particular,  how 
can  it  be  right  even  in  this  Cafe  ?  A  wife  and  good 
Man,  after  examining  thefe  Things,  fubmits  his 
Mind  to  him  who  adminifters  the  Whole,  as  good 
Citizens  do  to  the  Laws  of  the  Commonwealth. 

§.  2.  He,  then,  who  comes  to  be  inllrud^ed, 
ought  to  come  with  this  Intention  :  "  How  may  I 
*'  in  every  thing  follow  the  Gods  ?  How  may  I  ac- 
*'  quiefce  in  the  divine  Adminiflration  ?  And  how 
*'  may  I  be  free  ?"  For  He  is  free,  to  whom  all 
happens  agreeably  to  his  Pboice,  and  whom  no  one 
can  reilrain. 

What !  then,  is  Freedom  Diftradion  ? 

By  no  means  :  for  Madnefs  and  Freedom  are  in-^ 
.compatible. 

But  I  would  have  whatever  appears  to  me  to  be 
right,  happen  ;  however  it  comes  to  appear  fo. 

You  are  mad  :  you  have  loft  your  Senfes.  Do 
not  you  know,  that  Freedom  is  a  very  beautiful  and 
valuable  Thing  ?  But  for  me  to  chufe  at  random, 
and  for  things  to  happen  agreeably  to  fuch  a  Choice, 
may  be  ib  far  from  a  beautiful  Thing,  as  to  be,  of 
all  others,  the  moft  fhocking.  For  how  do  we  pro- 
ceed in  Writing  P  Do  I  chule  to  write  the  Name  of 
Dion  [for  Inftance]  as  I  will  ?  No  :  but  I  am  taught 
to  be  willing  to  write  it,  as  it  ought  to  be  writ.  And 
what  is  the  Cafe  in  Mufic  ?  The  fame.  And  what  in 
every  other  Art  or  Science  ?  Otherwife,  it  would  be 
to  no  Purpofe  to  learn  any  thing  ;  if  it  was  to  be  a- 
dapted  to  each  one*s  particular  Humour.  Is  it  then 
only  in  the  greateft  and  principal  Point,  that  of  Free- 
dpm,  permitted  me  to  will  at  random?  By  no  means: 

but 


42  The  Discourses  of        Book  I. 

but  true  Inflrudlion  is  this :  learning  to  will,  that 
Things  fhould  happen  as  they  do.  And  how  do  they 
happen  ?  As  the  Appointer  of  them  hath  appointed. 
He  hath  appointed,  that  there  fhould  be  Summer 
and  Winter  ;  Plenty  and  Dearth ;  Virtue  and  Vice ; 
and  all  fuch  Contrarieties,  for  the  Harmony  of  the 
"Whole  frt).  To  each  of  us  he  hath  given  a  Body, 
and  its  Parts,  and  our  feveral  Properties,  and  Compa- 
nions. Mindful  of  this  Appointment,  we  (hould  en- 
ter upon  a  Courfe  of  Education  and  Initrudlion,  not 
to  change  the  Conftitutions  of  things ;  which  is  nei- 
ther put  within  our  Reach,  nor  for  our  Good  ;  but 
that,  being  as  they  are,  and  as  their  Nature  is  with 
regard  to  us,  we  may  have  our  Mind  accommodated 
to  what  exifls.  Can  we,  for  Inftance,  fly  Mankind  ? 
And  how  is  that  polTible  ?  Can  we,  by  converfmg 
with  them,  change  them  ?  Who  hath  given  us  fuch 
a  Power  ?  What  then  remains,  or  what  Method  is 
there  to  be  found  for  fuch  a  Commerce  with  them, 
that  while  they  ad  agreeably  to  the  Appearances  in 
their  own  Minds,  we  may  neverthelefs  be  afFeded 
conformably  to  Nature  ?  But  you  are  wretched  and 
difcontented.  If  you  are  alone,  you  term  it  a  De- 
fart  ;  and  if  with  Men,  you  call  them  Cheats  and 
Robbers.  You  find  Fault  too  with  your  Parents,  and 
Children,  and  Brothers,  and  Neighbours.  Whereas 
you  ought,  when  you  live  alone,  to  call  that  a  Re- 
pofe  and  Freedom  ,  and  to  elleem  yourfelf  as  re- 
iembling  the  Gods :  and  when-  you  are  in  Company, 
not  to  call  it  a  Crowd  and  a  Tumult,  and  a  Trouble ; 
but  an  Affembly,  and  a  Feflival :  and  thus  to  take 
all  things  contentedly.  What,  then,  is  the  Puniih- 
ment  of  thofe  who  do  not .?  To  be  juft  as  they  are. 
Is  any  one  difcontented  with  being  alone  .?  Let  him 
be  in  a  Defart  (Jb).  Difcontented  with  his  Parents  I 
Let  him  be  a  bad  Son ;  and  let  him  mourn.  Difcon- 
tented with  his  Children  }  Let;  him  be  a  bad  Father. 
Throw  him  into  Prifon.    What  Prifon  ?  Where  he 

already 
•     (a)  See  Efichkidion^  c.  xxvii.    {h)  See  Introdu6lion,  §.  20. 


Chap.  12.     EPICTETUS.  43 

already  is  :  for  he  is  in  a  Situation  againft  his  Will ; 
and  wherever  any  one  is  againfl  his  Willi,  that  is  to 
him  a  Prifon  :  juft  as  Socrates  was  not  in  Prifon  ^  for 
he  was  wtllingly  there.    "  What  then  mufl  my  Leg 

*'  be  lame  ?" And  is  it  for  one  paiiltry  Leg, 

Wretch,  that  you  accufe  the  World?  Why  will  you 
not  give  it  up  to  the  Whole  ?  Why  will  you  not  with- 
draw yourfelf  from  it  ?  Why  will  you  not  gladly  yield 
it  to  him  who  gave  it  ?  And  will  you  be  angry  and 
difcontented  with  the  Decrees  o^  Jupiter ;  which  he, 
with  the  Fates^  who  fpun  in  his  Prefence  the  Thread 
of  your  Birth,  ordained  and  appointed  ?  Do  not  you 
know  how  very  fmall  a  Part  you  are  of  the  Whole  ? 
That  is,  as  to  Body  :  for,  as  to  Reafon,  you  are  nei- 
ther worie,  nor  lefs,  than  the  Gods.  For  Reafon  is 
not  meafured  by  Length  or  Height ;  but  by  Prin- 
ciples. Will  you  not  therefore  place  your  Good  there, 
where  you  are  equal  to  the  Gods  {d)  ?     "  How 
*'  WTetched  am  I  in  fuch  a  Father  and  Mother  I"-^ 
What,  then,  was  it  granted  you  to  come  before-hand, 
and  make  your  own  Terms,  and  fay  ;  "  Let  fuch  and 
*^  fuch  Perfbns,  at  this  Hour,  be  the  Authors  of  my 
Birth  ?"  It  was  not  granted  :  for  it  was  neceffary  that 
your  Parents  fhould  exift  before  you,  and  fo  you  be 
born  afterwards, — Of  whom  ? — Of  juft  fuch  as  they 
were.  What,  then,  fmce  they  are  fuch,  is  there  no 
Remedy  afforded  you  '^  Now,  furely,  if  you  were  ig- 
norant to  what  Purpofe  you  poffefs  the  Faculty  of 
Sight,  you  would  be  wretched  and  miferable,  in 
Ihutting  your  Eyes  at  the  Approach  of  Colours  :  and 
are  not  you  more  wretched  and  miferable,  in  being 
ignorant,  that  you  have  a  Greatnefs  of  Soul,  and  a 
manly  Spirit,  anfwerable  to  each  of  the  abovemen- 
tioned  Accidents  ^  Occurrences  proportioned  to  your 
Faculty  [of  Difcernment]  are  brought  before  you  : 
but  you  turn  it  away,  at  the  very  Time  when  you 
ought  to  have  it  the  mod  open,  and  quick-fighted. 

V7hy 

{d)  One  of  the  Stoic  Extravagances ;  arifing  from  the  Notion, 
(hat  human  fouls  were  literally  Parts  of  the  Deity. 


44  5"/^<?  Discourses  of        Book  L 

Why  do  not  you  rather  thank  the  Gods,  that  they 
have  made  you  fuperior  to  whatever  they  have  not 
placed  in  your  own  Power  ;  and  have  rendered  you 
accountable  for  that  only,  which  is  in  your  own  Pow- 
er ?  Of  your  Parents  they  acquit  you  ;  as  not  ac- 
countable :  of  your  Brothers  they  acquit  you :  of  Bo- 
dy, PofTeOions,  Death,  Life,  they  acquit  you.  For 
what,  then,  have  they  made  you  accountable  ?  For 
that  which  is  alone  in  your  pwn  Power  \  a  right  Ufe 
of  the  Appearances  of  Objeas.  Why,  then,  (hould 
you  draw  thofe  Things  upon  yourfelf,  for  which  you 
are  not  accountable  ?  This  is  giving  one's  felf  Trou- 
ble, without  need. 

CHAPTER    XIIL 

How  every  Thing  may  he  performed  acceptably  to  the 
Gods, 

WHEN  aPerfbn  inquired,  How  any  one  might 
eat  acceptably  to  the  Gods:  if  he  eats  v/jth 
Juflice,  fays  EpieietuSy  and  Gratitude ;  and  fairly  ancj 
temperately,  and  decently,  muft  he  not  alfo  eat  ac- 
ceptably to  the  Gods  ?  And  when  you  call  for  hot  Wa- 
ter, and  your  Servant  doth  not  hear  you ;  or,  if  he 
doth,  brings  it  only  warm ;  or  perhaps  is  not  to  be 
found  at  home  \  then,  not  to  be  angry,  or  burft  vyith 
Paflion  :  is  not  this  acceptable  to  the  Gods  ? 

But  how,  then,  can  one  bear  fuch  Things  ? 

Wretch,  will  you  not  bear  with  yoi^r  pwn  Brother, 
who  hath  God  for  his  Father,  as  being  a  Son  from  the 
fame  Stock,  and  of  the  fame  high  Defcent  [with 
yourfelf]  ?  But,  if  you  chance  to  be  placed  in  fbmc 
fuperior  Station,  will  you  prefently  fet  yourfelf  up  for 
a  Tyrant?  Will  you  not  remember  what  you  are,  and 
over  whom  you  bear  Rule  P  That  they  are  by  Nature 
your  Relations,  your  Brothers  i  that  they  are  the 
Offspring  of  God  ?  (a)  But 

(a)  1/ 1  did  defpife  the  Caufe  of  my  Man  Sernjanty  or  tny  Maid 
Su'vanty  nvheti  they  contended ivith  me :  ivhat  thenjhall  I  do  ivhen 
X^od  rijeth  up  ?  And^when  he  'vifitethy  ivhat  Jhall  1  anfwer  him  ? 
Did  not  He  ix'ho  mads  me  in  the  Womb,  make  him  ?  And  did  not 
OnefaJhiontisintheWomb?     Job  xxxi,  13,  1 4,  ijf. 


Chap.  14.      E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  45 

But  I  have  them  by  Right  of  Purchafe,  and  not 
they  me. 

Do  you  fee  what  it  is  you  regard  ?  That  it  is 
Earth  and  Mire,  and  thefe  wretched  Laws  of  dead 
(b)  Men  i  and  that  you  do  not  regard  thofe  of  the 
Gods. 

CHAPTER    XIV. 

That  all  Things  are  tinder  the  divine  Infpe5fion, 

§.  I.  TV  7  HEN  a  Perfon  afl<:ed  him.  How  any 
W  one  might  be  convinced,  that  each  of 
his  Adions  are  under  the  Infpedlion  of  God  ?  Da 
not  you  think,  fays  Epi^etiis^  that  all  Things  are 
mutually  bound  together  and  united  ? 

I  do. 

Well :  and  do  not  you  think,  that  Things  on 
Earth  feel  the  Influence  of  the  heavenly  Bodies  ^ 

Yes. 

Elfe  how  could  the  Trees  fo  regularly,  as  if  by 
God's  exprefs  Command,  bud,  {a)  blofibm,  bring 
forth  Fruit,  and  ripen  it:  then  let  it  drop,  and 
filed  their  Leaves,  and  lie  contracted  within  them- 
felves  in  Quiet  and  Repofe  ;  all  when  He  fpeaks 
the  Word.^  Whence,  again,  are  there  feen,  on  the 
Increafe  and  Decreafe  of  the  Moon,  and  the  Ap- 
proach and  Departure  of  the  Sun,  fo  great  Vicilli- 
tudes  and  Changes,  to  the  direct  contrary,  in  earthly 
Things  P  Have  then  the  very  Leaves,  and  our 
own  Bodies,  this  Connection  and  Sympathy  with 
the  Whole  ;  and  have  not  our  Souls  much  more  } 
But  our  Souls  are  thus  conneded  and  intimately 

joined 

(h)  i.  e.  Deccafed  Legiflators,  who  had  in  View  low  and 

worldly  Confiderations. 

(a)  There  is  a  Beauty  in  the  Original,  arlfmg  from  the  dif- 
ferent Terminations  in  the  Verbs,  which  cannot  be  prcferved  in 
our  Language, 


46  The  Discourses  of        Book L 

joined  to  God,  as  being  indeed  Members,  and  di- 
flindl  Portions,  of  his  Effence :  and  muft  not  He 
be  fenfible  of  every  Movement  of  them,  as  belong- 
ing, and  connatural  to  himfelf?  Canev,en;'^«  think 
of  the  divine  Adminiftration,  and  every  other  di- 
vine Subjed,  and  together  with  thefe  of  human 
Affairs  alfo  ?  Can  you  at  once  receive  Impreflions  on 
your  Senfes  and  your  Underftanding  from  a  thou- 
fand  Objeds  ?  At  once  afTent  to  fome  things,  deny 
or  fufpend  your  Judgment  concerning  others,  and 
preferve  in  your  Mind  Impreflions  from  fo  many 
and  various  Objeds,  and  whenever  you  are  moved 
by  [the  Traces  of]  them,  hit  on  Ideas  fimilar  to 
thofe  which  lirft  imprefled  you  ?  Can  you  retain  a 
Variety  of  Arts,  and  the  Memorials  of  ten  thou- 
fand  Things  ?  And  is  not  God  capable  of  furveying 
all  Things,  and  being  prefent  with  all,  and  receiv- 
ing a  certain  Communication  from  all  ?  Is  the  Sun 
capable  of  illuminating  fo  great  a  Portion  of  the 
Univerfe,  and  of  leaving  only  that  fmall  Part  of  it 
unilluminated,  which  is  covered  by  the  Shadow  of 
the  Earth  :  and  cannot  He  who  made  and  revolves 
the  Sun,  a  fmall  Part  of  himfelf,  if  compared  with 
the  Whole ;  cannot  He  perceive  all  Things  ? 

§.2.  "  But  1  cannot  (fay  you)  attend  to  all 
*'  Things  at  once."  Why,  doth  any  one  tell  you, 
that  you  have  equal  Power  with  Jupiter  ?  No : 
but  neverthelefs  He  has  afligned  to  each  Man  a 
Diredlor,  his  own  good  Genius,  and  committed 
him  to  his  Guardianfliip  :  a  Diredor,  whofe  Vigi- 
lance no  Slumbers  interrupt,  and  whom  no  falfe 
Reafonings  can  deceive.  For,  to  what  better  and 
more  careful  Guardian  could  he  have  committed 
us  ?  So  that  when  you  have  (hut  your  Doors,  and 
darkened  your  Room,  remember,  never  to  fay  that 
you  are  alone  ;  for  you  are  not :  but  God  is  within, 
and  your  Genius  is  within :  and  what  need  have 

they 


Chap.15.      EPICTETUS.  \i 

they  of  Light,  to  fee  what  you  are  doing?  To  (h) 
this  God  you  likewife  ought  to  fwear  fuch  an  Oath 
as  the  Soldiers  do  to  C<efar,  For  do  they,  in  order 
to  receive  their  Pay,  fwear  to  prefer  before  all 
things,  the  Safety  of  C^efar :  and  will  not  you  fwear, 
who  have  received  fo  many  and  fo  great  Favours  : 
or,  if  you  have  fworn,  will  you  not  fland  to  it  ? 
And  what  muft  you  fwear  ?  Never  to  difobey,  nor 
accufe,  nor  murmur  at  any  of  the  Things  appointed 
by  him  :  nor  unwillingly  to  do  or  fufFer  any  thing 
necelTary.  Is  this  Oath  like  the  former  ?  In  the 
firfl,  Perfons  fwear  not  to  honour  any  other  beyond 
Cafar  •,  in  the  laft,  beyond  all,  to  honour  them- 
felves. 

CHAPTER    XV. 

What  it  is  that  Philofophy  promife^, 

§.  I.  XT 7  HEN  one  confulted  him,  How  he 
W  might  perfuade  his  Brother  to  forbear 
treating  him  ill:  Philofophy,  anfwered  Epi5letusy 
doth  not  promife  to  procure  any  thing  external  to 
Man ;  otherwife  it  would  admit  fomething  beyond 
its  proper  Subjefl- matter.  For  the  Subjedt- matter 
of  a  Carpenter  is  Wood ;  of  a  Statuary,  Brafs : 
and  fo,  of  the  Art  of  Living,  the  Subjedt-matter  is 
each  Perlbn*s  own  Life. 

What,  then,  is  my  Brother's  ? 

That,  again,  belongs  to  his  own  Art  [of  Living] ; 
but  to  your's  is  external :  like  an  Eflate,  like 
Health,  like  reputation.  Now  Philofophy  promifes 
*  none  of  thefe.  In  every  Circumftance  I  will  pre- 
fervethe  governing  Part  conformable  to  Nature. 
Whofe  governing  Part  ?    His  in  whom  I  exifl. 

But 

(b)  Perhaps  the  Ka»  in  this  Line  may  have  been  mifplaced  ; 
and  it  Ihould  be  read  thtw  Kat  tw  Gew  iki,  f/xa? ;  and   then  the 

Tranflation  will  be To  thi.^  [G^niusj  and  to  God  you  ought 

to  fwear,  isfc. 


45  ne  Discourses  of         Book  L 

But  how,  then,  is  my  Brother  to  lay  afide  his 
Anger  ^ainfl  me  ? 

Bring  him  to  me,  and  I  will  tell  htm ;  but  I  have 
nothing  to  fay  to^^o^  about  his  An  gen 

§.  2.  Well :  but  I  flill  farther  alk.  How  am  I  to 
keep  myfelf  in  a  State  of  Mind  conformable  to 
Nature,  though  he  Ihould  not  be  reconciled  to 
me  ? 

No  great  Thing  is  brought  to  Perfection  fud- 
denly ;  when  not  fo  much  as  a  Bunch  of  Grapes  or 
a  Fig  is.  If  you  tell  me,  that  you  would  at  this 
Minute  have  a  Fig,  I  will  anfwer  you,  diat  there 
muft  be  Time.  Let  it  firfl  {a)  blofTom,  then  bear 
Fruit,  then  ripen.  Is  then  the  Fruit  of  a  Fig  tree 
not  brought  to  Perfedion  fuddenly,  and  in  one 
Hour  ;  aud  would  you  poflefs  the  Fruit  of  the  hu- 
man Mind  in  fo  fhort  a  Time,  and  without  Trou- 
ble ?     I  tell  you,  expedl  no  fuch  thing. 

CHAPTER    XVI. 

0/  Providence. 

§.  1.  T>  E  not  furprifed,  if  other  Animals  have 
J3  all  Things  neceflary  to  the  Body  ready 
provided  for  them,  not  only  Meat  and  Drink  but 
Lodging  :  that  they  want  neither  Shoes,  nor  Bed- 
ding, nor  Clothes  :  while  we  fland  in  need  of  all 
thefe.  For  they  not  being  made,  for  themfelves, 
but  for  Service,  it  was  not  fit  that  they  fhould  be 
formed  fo  as  to  need  the  Help  of  others.  For, 
confider  what  it  would  be  for  us  to  take  care,  not 

only 

(a)  The  Philofopher  had  forgot  that  Fig-trees  do  not  bl'ol- 
fom  :  and  is  lefs  excufable  than  the  Engli/h  Tranflators  of  the 
Bible,  Hab.  iii.  17.  to  whom  Fig-trees  were  not  fo  familiar. 
But  the  Hebrew  Word  ufed  there  fignifies  rather  in  general  to 
(hoot  out,  thrive,  than  in  particular  to  flower.  The  LXX  have 
Ka57ro^op»3!7£i ;  reading,  perhaps,  niDA  for  rn^H-  This  Note 
was  given  to  the  Tranflator  by  a  Friend. 


Chap.  16.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  49 

only  for  ourfelves,  but  far  Sheep  arid  AfTes  too: 
how  they  fhould  be  clothed,  how  (hod,  and  how 
they  fhould  eat  and  drink.  But  as  Soldiers  are 
ready  for  their  Commander,  fhod,  clothed,  and 
armed  (for  it  would  be  a  grievous  thing  for  a  Colo- 
nel to  be  obliged  to  go  through  his  Regiment  to  put 
on  their  Shoes  and  Clothes)  :  fo  Nature  likewife  has 
form.ed  the  Animals  made  for  Service,  ready  pro- 
vided, and  ftanding  in  need  of  no  further  Care. 
Thus  one  litde  Boy,  with  only  a  Crook,  drives  a 
Flock. 

§.  2.*"  But  now  we,  inflead  of  being  thankful  for 
this,  complain  of  God,  that  there  is  not  the  fame 
kind  of  Care  taken  of  us  likewife.  And  yet,  good 
Heaven  !.  any  one  Thing  in  the  Creation  is  fuliici- 
ent  to  demonftrate  a  Providence,  to  a  modeil  and 
grateful  Mind.  Not  to  inilance  at  prefent  in  great 
Things  :  but  only  in  the  very  Production  of  Milk 
from  Grafs,  Cheefe  from  Milk,  and  Wool  from 
Skins:  who  formed  and  contrived  thefe  Things? 
No  one,  fay  you.  O  furprifmg  Stupidity,  and  want 
of  Shame  !  But  come  •,  let  us  omit  the  IVorks  of 
Nature.  Let  us  contemplate  what  fhe  hath  done, 
as  it  were,  by-the-bye.  What  is  more  ufelefs  than 
the  Hairs  which  grow  on  the  Chin  \  And  yet  hath 
(he  not  made  ufe  even  of  thefe,  in  the  moll  be- 
coming manner  polTible  ?  Hatft  fhe  not  by  thefe 
diltincruifhed  the  Sexes  ?  DotH  not  Nature  in  each 
of  us  call  out,  even  at  a  Diftance,  I  am  a  Man; 
approach  and  addrefs  me  as  fuch  ;  enquire  no  far- 
ther ;  fee  the  Charadlerillic.  On  the  other  hand, 
with  regard  to  Women,  as  fhe  hath  mixed  fome- 
thing  fofter  in  their  Voice,  fo"  fhe  hath  deprived 
them  of  a  Beard.  But  no  :  to  be  fure,  the  Animal 
jfhould  have  been  left  undiflinguifhed,  and  each  of 
us  obliged  to  proclaim,  1  am  a  Mant  But  why  i^ 
not  this  Char aderi flic  beautiful  and  becoming, 
and  venerable }  How  much  more  beautiful  than 
the  Comb  of  Cocks  ^  hov/  much  more  noble  than 

E  the 


■50  The  Discourses  £/  Book  I. 

the  Mane  of  Lions !  Therefore,  we  ought  to  have 
preferved  the  divine  Charaderiflics  :  we  ought  not 
to  have  rejected  them ;  nor  confounded,  as  much  as 
in  us  lay,  the  diftind  Sexes. 

§.  3.  Are  thefe  the   only  Works  of  Providence, 

with  regard  to  us (a)    And  what 

Words  can  proportionably  exprefs  our  Applaufes 
and  Praife  ?  For,  if  we  had  any  Underflanding, 
ought  we  not  both,  in  public  and  in  private,  incef- 
fantly  to  fing  Hymns,  and  fpeak  well  of  the  Deity, 
and  rehearfe  his  Benefits  ?  Ought  we  not,  whe- 
ther we  are  digging,  or  ploughing,  or  eating,  to 
fmg  the  Hymn  [due]  to  God  ?  Great  is  God,  who 
has  fupplied  us  with  thefe  Inflruments  to  till  the 
Ground  :  Great  is  God^  who  has  given  us  Hands^ 
a  Power  of  Swallowing,  a  Stomach :  who  has  given 
us  to  grow  infenfibly,  to  breathe  in  Sleep.  [Even] 
thefe  Things  we  ought  upon  every  Occafion  to  ce- 
lebrate ;  but  to  make  it  the  Subjedl  of  the  greatefl 
and  mofl  divine  Hymn^  that  he  has  given  us  the 
Faculty  of  apprehending  them,  and  ufing  them  in 
ft  proper  Way.  Well  then  :  becaufe  the  mofl  of 
you  are  blind  and  infenfible,  was  it  not  neceffary, 
that  there  fhould  be  fbme  one  to  fill  this  Station, 
and  give  out,  for  all  Men,  the  Hymn  to  God  ^ 
For  what  elfe  can  I,  a  lame  old  Man,  do,  but  fing 
Hymns  to  God }  If  I  was  a  Nightingale,  I  would 
adl  the  Part  of  a  Nightingale :  if  a  Swan  (^),  the 
Part  of  a  Swan.  But,  fince  I  am  a  reafonable 
Creature^  it  is  my  Duty  to  praife  God.  This  is  my 
Bufmefs.  I  do  it.  Nor  will  I  ever  defert  this  Pofl, 
as  long  as  it  is  vouchfafed  me ;  and  I  exhort  you  to 
join  in  the  fame  Song(c). 

(a)  Something  here  feems  to  be  loft. 

(b)  The  Ancients  imagined  Swans  could  fing  very  raelo- 
dioufly. 

(c)  Beautiful  and  afFefting  Examples  of  fnch  Praife  and  Ex- 
hortation, fee  in  Pf.  xxxiv.  civ.  cxlv.  and  other  Parts  of  the  fa- 
cied  Writings. 

CHAP- 


Chap.  17.      E  P  I  C  T  E  t  U  S.  51 

CHAPTER    XVII. 

^bat  the  Art  of  Reafoning  is  necejfary. 

§.  I .  Q  I N  C  E  it  is  Reafon  which  fets  in  order 
w3  and  finifhes  all  other  Things,  it  ought 
not  itfelf  to  be  left  in  Diforder.  But  by  what  (hall 
it  be  fet  in  Order  ? 

Evidently,  either  by  itfelf,  of  by  fbmething  elfe. 

Well:  either  that  too  is  Reafon,  or  there  is 
fbmething  elfe  fuperior  to  Reafon  (which  is  impofTi- 
ble) :  and,  if  it  be  Reafon,  what,  again,  fhall  fet 
that  in  Order  ?  For,  if  Reafon  can  fet  itfelf  in  Or- 
der in  one  Cafe,  it  can  in  another  :  and,  if  we  will 
flill  require  any  thing  further,  it  will  be  infinite,  and 
without  End. 

But,  the  more  urgent  Neceflity  is  to  cure  [our 
Opinions,  Palfions],  and  the  like  (a). 

Would  you  hear  about  thefe,  therefore  }  Well : 
hear.  But  then,  if  you  fliould  fay  to  me,  *^  I  can- 
*'  not  tell  whether  your  Arguments  are  true  or 
"  falfe ;"  and  if  I  fhould  happen  to  exprefs  myfelf 
doubtfully,  and  you  fliould  fay,  "  diftinguifh 
''  [which  Sen fe  you  mean],"  1  will  bear  with  you 
no  longer  ;  but  will  retort  your  own  Words  upon 
you ;  the  more  urgent  Neceffity  is,  &c.  Therefore, 
1  fuppofe,  the  Art  of  Reafoning  is  firfl  fettled  :  juft 
as,  before  the  Meafuring  of  Corn,  we  fettle  the 
Meafure.  For,  unlefs  we  firft  determine  what  a 
Bufhel,  and  what  a  Balance,  is,  how  fhall  we  be 
able  to  meafure  or  weigh  }  Thus,  in  the  prefent 
Cafe  :  unlefs  We  have  firil  learnt^  and  accurately 
examined,  that  which  is  the  Criterion  of  other 
Things,  and  by  which  other  Things  are  learnr, 
how  fhall  we  be  able  accurately  to  learn  any  thing 

E  2  elfec* 

,  (a)  The  Senfe  here  is  fupplied  from  a  Conjecture  of  U'lI 
/us. 


52  ^he  Discourses^/         Book  I. 

elfe  ?  And  how  is  it  pofiible  ?  Well :  a  Bufhel, 
however,  is  only  Wood,  a  Thing  of  no  Value  [in 
itfelf  ]  :  but  it  meafures  Corn.  And  Logic  Fyoufay] 
is  of  no  Value  in  itfelf:  That  we  will  confider 
hereafter.  Let  us,  for  the  prefent,  then,  make  the 
Conceflion.  It  is  enough  that  it  diflinguifhes  and 
examines,  and,  as  one  may  fay,  meafures  and 
weighs  ail  other  Things.  Who  fays  this  ?  Is  it  only 
Chryftppus^  and  Zeno^  and  Cleanihes  ?  And  doth 
not  Antifihenes  fay  it  ?  And  who  is  it,  then,  who 
has  written,  That  the  Beginning  of  a  right  Educa- 
tion is  the  Examination  of  Words  ?  Doth  not  So- 
crates fay  it  ?  Of  whom,  then,  doth  Xenophon 
write.  That  he  began  by  the  Examination  of  Words ; 
what  each  fignified  ih). 

§.  2.  Is  this,  then,  the  great  and  admirable 
Thing,  to  underiland  or  interpret  Chryfippus  F 

Who  fays  that  it  is  ?  But  what,  then,  is  the  ad- 
mirable Thing  ? 

To  under  ft  and  the  Will  of  Nature. 

Well  then  :  do  you  apprehend  it  of  yourfelf  ? 
In  that  Cafe,  what  Need  have  you  for  any  one  elfe  ? 
For,  if  it  be  true,  that  Men  never  err  but  involun- 
tarily i  and  you  have  learnt  the  Truth,  you  muft 
neceffarily  ad  right. 

Biit,  indeed,  I  do  not  apprehend  the  Will  of 
Nature. 

Who,  then,  (hall  interpret  that  ? 

They  fay,  Chryfippus  (f).  I  go  and  inquire  what 
this  Interpreter  of  Nature  fays.  I  begin  not  to  un- 
deriland his  Meaning.  I  feek  one  to  interpret  that. 
Here  explain  how  this  is  exprelfed,  and  as  if  it 
were -put  miG  Lalin:  How,  then,  doth  a  fuper- 
cilious  Self-opinion  belong  to  the  Interpreter ! 

-'  '^ Indeed, 

(i^)  The  Stoics  were  remarkably  exa6l  in  tracing  the  Ety- 
mology of  Words :  a  Study,  certainly,  of  very  great  Ufe  :  but, 
liy  too  great  Subtlety  ar.d  Refinement,  they  were  often  led  by  it 
:n:o  much  Tril^.ing  and  Abfurdity 

fcj  See  {Yi^  EnchiricUont  ch.  xlix. 


Chap.  17.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  53 

Indeed,  it  doth  not  juftjy  belong  to  Chryfippus 
himfelf,  if  he  only  interprets  the  Will  of  Nature, 
and  doth  not  follow  it :  and  much  lefs  to  his  Inter- 
preter. For  we  have  no  need  of  Chryfippus^  on  his 
own  Account ;  but  that,  by  his  Means,  we  may 
apprehend  the  Will  of  Nature  :  nor  do  we  need  a 
Diviner  on  his  own  Account ;  but  that,  by  his  Af- 
fiflance,  we  hope  to  underiland  future  Events,  and 
what  is  fignified  by  the  Gods  :  nor  the  Entrails  of 
the  Vidims,  on  their  ovvn  Account  -,  but,  on  the 
Account  of  what  is  fignified  by  them  :  neither  is  it 
the  Raven,  or  the  Crow,  that  we  admire  -,  but  the 
God,  who  delivers  his  Significations  by  their  Me^ns. 
I  come,  therefore,  to  the  Diviner  and  Interpreter 
of  thefe  Things  ^  and  fay,  "  infped  the  Entrails  for 
*'  me:  what  is  fignified  to  me  ?"  Having  taken, 
and  laid  them  open,  he  thus  interprets  them.  You 
have  a  Choice,  Man,  incapable  of  being  reilrained 
or  compelled.  This  is  v/ritten  here  in  the  Entrails. 
]  will  Iliow  you  this  firfb,  in  the  Faculty  of  Aiient. 
Can  any  one  reilrainyou  from  allenting  to  Truth  } 
— ''  No  one." — Can  any  one  compel  you  to  admit 
a  Fallhocd  \ — "  No  one."— You  fee,  then,  that  you 
have  in  this  Topic  a  Choice  incapable  of  being  re- 
flrained,  or  compelled,  or  hindered.  Well :  is  it 
any  otherwife  with   regard  to  Purfiiit  and  Defire  ? 

What  can  conquer  one  Purfuit  .^ ''  Another 

"  Purfiiit.".^ "  What,  Defire  and  Averfion  > 

"  Another  Defire  and  another  Averfion."  If  you 
fet  Death  before  me  (fay  you)  you  compel  me.  No  : 
not  what  is  fet  before  you  doth  it :  but  your  Princi- 
ple, that  it  is  better  to  do  fuch  or  fuch  a  thing, 
than  to  die.  Here,  again,  you  fee  it  is  your  own 
Principle  which  comjpels  you :  that  is,  Choice  com- 
pels Choice.  For,  if  God  hath  conilituted  that 
Portion  which  he  hath  feparated  from  his  own  Ef- 
fence,  and  given  to  us,  capable  of  being  refhrained 
or  compelled,  either  by  himfelf,  or  by  any  other, 
he  would  not  have  been  God  ;  nor  have  taken  care 
of  us,  in  a  due  manner. 

£  5  §•  3' 


54  ^he  Discourses  of         Book  % 

§.  3.  Thefe  Things,  fays  the  Diviner,  I  find  iia 
the  Viflims.  Thefe  Things  are  fignified  to  you. 
If  you  pleafe,  you  are  free.  If  you  pleafe,  you  will 
have  no  one  to  complain  of ;  no  one  to  accufe.  All 
will  be  equally  according  to  your  own  Mind,  and 
to  the  Mind  of  God. 

§.  4.  For  the  Sake  of  this  Oracle,  I  go  to  the 
Diviner  and  the  Philofopher :  admiring  not  him 
merely  on  the  Account  of  his  Interpretation,  but 
the  Things  which  he  interprets. 

CHAPTER    XVIIL 

Thai  we   are  not  to  be  angry  with  the  Errors  of 
others. 

^.  I.  (a)  T  F  what  the  Philofbphers  fay  be  true, 
JL  That  all  Mens  Adions  proceed  from 
one  Source :  that,  as  they  affent,  from  a  Perfuafion 
that  a  Thing  is  fo,  and  diffent,  from  a  Perfuafiou 
that  it  is  not;  and fufpend their' Judgment,  from  a 
Perfuafion  that  it  is  uncertain  j  fo,  likewife,  they 
exert  their  Purfuits,  from  a  Perfuafion  that  fuch  a 
Thing  is  for  their  Advantage  :  and  it  is  impoffible 
to  efleem  one  Thing  advantageous,  and  defire  an- 
other ;  to  efteem  one  Thing  a  Duty,  and  purfiie 
another :  why,  after  all,  fhould  we  be  angry  at 
the  Multitude  ^ 

They  are  Thieves  and  Pilferers. 

What  do  you  mean  by  Thieves  and  Pilferers  I 
They  are  in  an  Error  concerning  Good  and  Evil. 

Ought 

(a)  The  moft  ignorant  P^rfons  often  pra6li(c  what  tbey 
know  to  be  evil  :  and  they,  who  voluntarily  fuffer,  as  many  do» 
their  Inclinations  to  blind  th^ir  Judgment,  are  not  juftified  by 
following  it.  The  DoiElrine  b^  Epiiletusy  therefore,  here,  and 
elfewhere,  on  this  Head,  contradicts  the  Voice  ofReafoh  and 
Confcience  :  nor  is  it  lefs  pernicious,  than  ill  grounded.  It  de- 
ftroys  all  Guik  and  Merit,  all  Punilhment  and  Reward,  alt 
Blame  of  ourfelves  or  others,  all  Senfe  of  Milbehaviour  towards 
our  Fellow-creatures,  or  our  Creator-  No  wonder  that  fucH 
Philofophers  did  not  ttach  Repentance  towards  "God. 


Chap  i8.        £  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  sS 

Ought  you,  then,  to  be  angry,  or  to'  pity  them  ? 
Do  but  fliow  them  their  Error,  and  you  will  fee, 
that  they  will  amend  their  Faults  :  but,  if  they  do 
not  fee  it,  the  Principles  they  form,  are  to  them 
their  fupreme  Rule. 

What,  then,  ought  not  this  Thief  and  this  Adul- 
terer to  be  deflroyed  ? 

By  no  means  [alk  that]  :  but  fay  rather  (^J, 
^*  Ought  not  he  to  be  deflroyed,  who  errs  and  is 
*'  deceived  in  Things  of  the  greateft  Importance  j 
''  blinded,  not  in  the  Sight  that  diflinguifhes  White 
"  from  Black,  but  in  the  Judgment,  that  diflin- 
^'  guifhes  Good  from  Evil  ?"  By  flating  your  QueP 
tion  thus,  you  fee  how  inhuman  it  is  •,  andjufl  as  if 
you  would  fay,  "  Ought  not  this  blind,  or  that  deaf 
''  Man,  to  be  deflroyed?"  For,  if  the  greateft 
Hurt  be  a  Deprivation  of  the  mofl  valuable  Things, 
and  the  mofl  valuable  Thing  to  every  one  is  a  right 
Judgment  of  chufing  ;  when  any  one  is  deprived 
of  this,  why,  after  all,  are  you  angry?  You 
ought  not  to  be  affeded,  Man,  contrary  to  Nature, 
by  the  Ills  of  another.  Pity  {c)  him  rather.  Do 
not  be  angry  •,  nor  fay,  as  many  do  ,  What !  fhall 
thefe  execrable  and  odious  Wretches  dare  to  adl 
thus  !  Whence  have  you  fo  fuddenly  learnt  Wif- 
dom  ?  Becaufe  we  admire  thofe  Things  which  fuch 
People  take  from  us.  Do  not  admire  your  Clothes^ 
and  you  will  not  be  angry  with  the  Thief  Do  not 
admire  the  Beauty  of  your  Wife,  and  you  will  not 
be  angry  with  an  Adulterer.  Know,  that  a  Thief 
and  an  Adulterer  have  no  place  in  the  Things  that 
are  properly  your  own  :  but  in  thofe  that  belong  to 
.     E  4  others  j 

(h)  Several  Words  are  wanting  in  different  Places  offome 
of  the  following  Lines  of  the  Greek ;  which  are  conjefturally 
fupplied  in  the  Tranflation  from  Mr.  Uptons  Verfion. 

{cj  See  Gal.  yi.  i.  and  many  other  Parts  of  the  New  Tefta- 
ment,  in  which  all  the  Humanity  and  Tendernefs  prefcribed  b 
the  Stoics  are  enjoined ;  and  the  dangerous  Notions,  on  whic 
ihey  found  them,  are  avoided. 


56  I'he  Discourses  of         Book  I. 

otherlS;  and  which  are  not  in  your  Power.  If  you 
give  up  thefe  Things,  and  look  upon  them  as  no- 
thing, with  whom  Vv'ill  you  any  longer  be  angry  ? 
But,  while  you  admire  them,  be  angry  withyour- 
felf,  rather  than  with  others!  Confider  only  :  You 
have  a  fine  Suit  of  Clothes  3  your  Neighbour  has 
not.  You  have  a  Window  ;  you  want  to  air -them. 
He  knows  not  jn  what  the  Good  of  Man.confills  -, 
but  imagines  It  is  in  a  fine  Suit  of  Clothes ;  the  very 
Thing  which  you  imagine  too.  Mufl  not  he,  then, 
of  courfe,  come  and  take  them  away?  When 
you  fhow  a  Cake  to  greedy  People,  and  are  de- 
vouring it  all  yourfelf ;  would  not  you  have  them 
fnatch  it  from  you  ?  Do  not  provoke  them.  Do 
not  have  a  Window.  Do  not  air  your  Clothes.  1, 
too,  the  other  Day,  had  an  Iron  Lamp  burning  be- 
fore my  Houfhold  l>eitiei5.  Hearing  aNoifeatthc 
Window,  I  ran..  I  found  my  Lamp  was  flolen.  I 
•confidered,  that  he  who  took  it  away,  did  nothing 
unaccountable.  What  then  ?  To-rnorrow,  faysl, 
you  iliall  find  an  Earthen  one  :  for  a  Man  lofes 
only  v/hat  he  hath.  /  have  loft  my  Coat.  Ay  :  be- 
caufe  you  had  a  Coat.  I  have  a  Vain  m  my  Head. 
Why,  can  you  have  a  Pain  in  your  Horns  (d)  ? 
"^Vhy,  then,  are  you  out  of  Humour  .f*  For  Lofs 
and  Pain  can  be  only  of  fuch  Things  as  are  pof- 
felled. 

§.2.  But  the  Tyrant   will  chain ^What  } 

— — A  Leg  — • — He  will  take  away What  ? 

x\  Head. -What  is  there,    then,  that 

he  can  neither  chain,  nor  take  away  ? The 

Will,  and   Choice.     Hence  the  Advice  of  the  An- 
cients  Know  thyfelf. 

What  ought  to  be  done,  then  ^ 

Exercife 

(d)  This  alludes  to  a  famoiis  Qr.ibble  among  the  Stoics. 
fj'  I:  at  you  ha-oe  not  lojly  you  ha've  :  but  you  have  not  lojl  a  Pair  of 
lUffis  J  therefore  you  haue  a  Pair  of  Horns.     Up  ton. 


Ghap.  i8.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  sj 

'  Exercife  yonrfelf,  for  Heaven's  fake,  in  little 
Things  ;  and  thence  proceed  to  greater.     "  I  have 

"  a  Pain  in    my  Head." ^^Do  not  cry,  alas! 

— "  I  have  a  Pain  in  my  Ear" Do  not 

cry,  alas !  I  do  not  fay,  'you  may  not  groan  ;  but 
do  not  groan  inwardly :  or,  if  your  Servant  is  a 
long  while  in  bringing  you  fomething  to  bind  your 
Head,  do  not  bawl,  and  dillort  yourielf ;  and  fay  ; 
*'  Every  body  hates  me."  For,  who  would  not 
hate  fuch  a  one  ? 

§.  3.  Relying  for  the  future  on  thefe  Principles, 
walk  upright,  and  free  •,  not  trufhing  to  Bulk  of 
Body,  like  a  Wreiller :  for  one  fliould  not  be  un- 
conquerable in  the  Senfe  that  an  Afs  is. 

Who  then  is  unconquerable  ?  He  whom  nothing, 
independent  on  Choice,  difconcerts.  Then  I  run  over 
every  Circumflance,  and  confider  [fuch  a  one  in  each. 
As  they  fay]  of  an  athletic  Champion.  He  has 
been  victorious  in  the  firfl  Encounter :  What  will 
he  do  in  the  Second  ?  What,  if  the  Heat  (liould 
be  exceffive  ?  What,  if  he  were  to  appear  at  Olym- 
pi  a  ?  So  I  fay  in  this  Cafe.  What,  if  you  throw 
Money  in  his  Way  ?  He  will  defpife  it.  What,  if 
a  Girl  ?  What,  if  in  the  dark  ?  What,  if  he  be 
tried  by  -popular  Fame,  Calumny,  Praife,  Death  ? 
He  is  able  to  overcome  them  all.  W^hat,  tlien,  if 
he  be  placed  in  die  Heat,  or  in  the  Rain  {e)  ?  What, 

if 

(e"^  Mr.  Upton  obferves,  That  EpiSIetus  here  applies  to  the 
wife  Man,  what  he  had  juil  been  faying  of  the  athletic  Cham- 
pion :  and  he  propofes  a  Change  In  one  Word  ;  by  which,  ia- 
ftead  of  the  Heat,  or  the  Rain,  the  Tranflation  will  be,  in  a 
Fever,  or  in  Drink.  For  the  Stoics  held  their  wife  Man  to  be 
a  perfect  Mafier  of  himfelf  in  all  thefe  Circnmllances.  The 
Pafiages  which'. Mr.  L^^/oz?  produces  from  L.  ii.  c,  17.  towards 
the  End,  and  L.  lii.  c.  2.  towards  the  Beginning,  makes  the 
Conjeftnre  of  oiVij/xEvo?  for  *t;o|XHvoc  as  probable  as  it  is  ingenious. 
Rut  yet  the  r;  y.-v  av  xavfAcc  jj  one  would  imagine  to  have  crept  in 
by  a  Repetition  of  the  Tranfcriber,  from  the  Defcription,  a  few 
Lines  before  ;  as  it  is  fcarcely  probable,  that  the  fame  Word 
fliould  beufed  by  EpiSIetus  in  two  diiTcrent  Senfes,  at  fo  fmall  a 
Diilance,  in  the  iame  Difcourfe 


5^  fbe  Discourses  of        Book  I. 

if  he  be  hypochondriac,  or  afleep  ?  [Juft  the  fame.] 
This  is  my  unconquerable  athletic  Champion. 

CHAPTER    XIX. 

Of  the  Behaviour  to  he  oh/erved  towards  Tyrants. 

§.  I.  TXT  HEN  a  Perfon  is  poffefled  of  fome 

VV    either,  real  or  imaginary  Superiority, 

unlefs  he  hath  been  well  inftrudted,  he  will  necef^ 

farily  be  puffed  up  with  it.     A  Tyrant,  for  Inftance, 

fays  ;  *^'  I  am  fupreme  over  All."— ^^ And  what 

can  you  do  for  Me  ?  Can  you  exempt  my  Defires 
from  Difappointment  ?  How  fliould  you  ?  For  do 
you  never  incur  your  own  Averfions  ?  Are  your 
own  Purfuits  infallible  ?  Whence  (hould  Ton  come 
by  that  Privilege  ?  Pray,  on  Ship-board, .  do  you 
truft  to  yourfelf,  or  to  the  Pilot  ?  In  a  Chariot,  to 
whom  but  to  the  Driver  ?  And  to  whom  in  all 
other  Arts  ?  Jufl  the  fame.  In  what,  then  doth  your 
Power  confift  .?-r '*  All  Men  pay  Regard  to  me.'* 

So  do  I  to  my  Defk.  I  wafli  it,  and  wipe  it ; 
and  drive  a  Nail,  for  the  Service  of  my  Oil  Flafk. — 
**  What,  then,  are  thefe  Things  to  be  valued  be- 

**  yond  Me  ?'' — — No  :  but  they  are  of  fome 

Ufe  to  me^  and  therefore  I  pay  Regard  to  them. 
Why,  Do  not  I  pay  Regard  to  an  Afs  }  Do  I  not 
wafh  his  Feet  ?  Do  not  I  clean  him  ?  Do  not  you 
know,  that  every  one  pays  Regard  to  himfelf ;  and 
to  you,  juft  as  he  doth  to  an  Afs  ?  For  who  pays 
Regard  to  you  as  a  Man  ?  Show  that.  Who  would 
wifh  to  be  like  Tou  ?  Who  would  defire  to  imitate 
Tou^  as  he  would  Socrates  .?—'.'  Eut  I  can  take  off 
your  Head?"— — *'You  fay  right.  I  had  forgot,  that 
one  is  to  pay  Regard  to  you  as  to  a  Fever,  or  the 
Cholic;  and  that  there  fhould  be  an  Altar  eredted 
to  you,  as  there  is  to  the  Goddefs  Fever  at  Rome, 

§.  2.  What  is  it,  then,  that  diflurbs  and  ftrikes 
Terror  into  the  Mukitude  }  The  Tyrant,  and  his 
Guards  ^  By  no  means.  What  is  by  Nature  free, 

cannot 


Chap.  19.      E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  6s 

cannot  be  difturbed,  or  rcftrained,  by  any  thing  but 
jtfelf.  But  its  own  Principles  dillurb  it.  Thus,  when 
the  Tyrant  fays  to  any  onej  "  I  will  chain  your 
*'  Leg  :"  he  w  ho  vakies  his  Leg,  cries  out  for  Pity  : 
while  he,  who  fets  the  Value  on  his  own  Will  and 
Choice,  fays  ;  ''  If  you  iniagine  it  for  your  own  In- 

**  tereil,  chain^it." ''  What!  do  not  you  care  ?" 

■  ■No  :  I  do  not  care •'  I  will  fhov/  you 

''  that  I  am  Mafler."—- -roz/  P  How  fhould  Tou  F 
Jupter  has  fet  me  free.  W^hat !  do  you  think  he 
would  fuifer  his.  own  Son  to  be  enflaved  ?    You  are 

Mafler  of  my  Carcafe.  Take  it. *'  So  that,  when 

"  you  come  into  my  Prefence,  you  pay  no  Regard 

*'  tome.'*" No:  but  tomyfelf:    or,  if  you 

will  have  me  fay,  to  you  alfo  :  I  tell  you  -,  the  fame 
to  you  as  to  a  Pipkin.  This  is  not  felfiih  Vanity  : 
for  every  iVnimal  is  fo  conftituted,  as  to  do  every 
thing  for  its  own  Sake.  Even  the  Sun  doth  all  for 
his  own  Sake  :  nay  ;  and  to  name  no  more,  even 
Jupiter  himfelf  But,  when  he  would  be  lliled  the 
Difpenfer  of  Rain  and  Plenty,  and  the  Father  of  Gods 
and  Men,  you  fee  that  he  cannot  attain  thfefe  Offices 
and  Titles,  iinlefs  he  contributes  to  the  common 
Utility.  And  he  hath  univerfally  fg  conftituted  the 
Nature  of  every  reafonable  Creature,  that  no  one 
can  attain  any  of  its  own  proper  Advantages,  with- 
out contributing  fomething  to  the  Ufe  of  Society. 
And  thus  it  becomes  not  unfociable  to  do  every  thing 
for  one's  ov/n  Sake.  For,  do  you  exped,  that  a  Man 
fhould  defert  himfelf,  and  his  own  Intereft  ?  How, 
then,  can  all  Beings  have  one  and  the  fame  original 
Indind,  Attachment  to  themfelves.?  What  follows, 
then  ?  That  where  thofe  abfurd  Principles,  concern- 
ing Things  independent  on  Choice,  as  if  they  were 
either  good  or  evil,  are  at  the  Bottom,  there  muft 
neceiTarily  be  a  Regard  paid  to  Tyrants  :  and  I  wifh 
it  were  to  Tyrants  only,  and  not  to  the  veryOfficers 
of  their  Bed-chamber  too  And  how  wife  doth  a  Man 
grow  on  a  fudden,  when  Cafar  has  made  him  Clerk 

Pf 


So  The  Discoui^SEs  of        Book  L 

of  the  Clofe-ftool  ?  How  immediately  v/e  fay,  "  Fe- 
*'  licio  talked  very  fenfibiy  to  me!"  1  wifh  he  were 
turned  out  of  the  Bed-chamber,  that  he  might  once 
more  appear  to  you  the  Fool  he  is. 

§.3.  Epaphroditus  had  [a  Slave,  that  v/as]  a 
Shoemaker ;  whom,  becaufe  he  was  good  for  no- 
thing, he  fold.  This  very  Fellow  being,  by  fomc 
Urange  Luck;  bought  by  a  Courtier,  became  Shoe^ 
m.aker  to  Cajar.  llien  you  might  have  feen  how 
Epaphroditus  honoured  him.  "  How  doth  good  Fe^ 
"  lixio  do,  pray  .?"  And,  if  any  of  us  afked,  what  the 
great  Man  himfelf  was  about,  it  v/as  anfwered  ;  "  He 
"  is  confultingabout  Affairs  with  Felicior  Did  not  he 
fell  him,  as  good  for  nothing  ?  Who,  then,  hath,  all 
on  a  fudden,  made  a  wife  Man  of  him  }  This  it  is  to 
honour  any  thing,  befides  what  depends  en  Choice. 

§.  4.  Is  any  one  exalted  to  the  Office  of  Tribune  ? 
All  that  meet  him  congratulate  him.  One  kiffes  his 
Eyes,  another  his  Neck,  and  the  Slaves  his  Hands. 
He  goes  to  his  Houfe  ;  finds  it  illuminated.  He'  af- 
cends  the  Capitol.  Offers  a  Sacrifice.  Now,  who  ever 
offered  a  Sacrifice  for  having  good  Defires  ?  For  ex- 
erting Purfuits  conformiable  to  Nature  ?  For  we  thank 
the  Gods  for  that  wherein  we  place  our  Good. 

§.  5.  A  Perfon  v/as  talking  with  me  To-day  about 
the  Prieflhood  {a)  oi  Auguftus.  I  fay  to  him,  Let  the 
thing  alone.  Friend  :  you  v/ill  be  at  great  Expence 
for  nothing.  "  But  m.y  Name,  fays  he,  will  be  writ- 
'^  ten  in  the  Annals."  Will  you  fland  by,  then, and  tell 
thofe  v/ho  read  them  ;  ^^  I  am  the  Perfon  whofe  Name 
^^  is  written  there  .^"  But,  if  you  could  tell  every  one 

fb  now,  what  will  you  do  when  you  are  dead  .? 

"  My  Name  will  remain.'* — Write  it  upon  a  Stone, 
and  it  will  remain  Juft  as  well.  But,  pray  what  Re- 
membrance will  there  be  of  you  out  of  NicopoHs  ? 
*-'  But  1  fiiall  wear  a  Crown  {b)  of  Gold." — If  your 

Heart 

(a)  'vVhen  Temples  began  to  be  ereded  to  the  Emperors,  as 

to  Gods,  the  Office  otPriell  v/as  purchafed  by  vile  Flatterers,  at  a 

very  great  Expence.  UpTCNyrw/zCASAUBON.     (b)  Which  was 

the  Ornament  of  the  Prieits,  while  they  were  offering  Sacrifice. 

l^icopolisxYZ^  built  by^ugu/Ius,'m  memory  of  theVitftory  aiJilium* 


Chap.  20.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  61 

tieart  is  quite  fet  upon  a  Crown,  take  and  put  on  one 
of  Rofesj  for  it  will  make  the  prettier  Appearance. 

CHAPTER    XX. 

/;/  what  manner  Reafon  contcmpUtes  i'fdf, 

EVERY  Art,  and  every  Faculty,  contemplates 
fome  Things  as  its  principal  Objects..  When- 
ever, therefore,  it  is  of  the  fame  Nature  with  the 
Obje^ls  of  its  Contemiplations,  it  neceffarily  con- 
templates itfelf  too.  But,  where  it  is  of  a  different 
Nature,  it  cannot  contemplate  itfelf.  The  Art  of 
Shoemaking,  for  Inftance,  is  exercifed  upon  Lea- 
ther ;  but  is  itfelf  intirely  diflind  from  the  Materi- 
als it, works  upon  :  therefore  it  doth  not  contem- 
plate itfelf.  Again  :  Gramimar  is  exercifed  on  arti- 
culate Speech.  Is  the  Art  of  Grammar  itfelf,  then, 
articulate  Speech  ? 

By  no  means. 

Therefore  it  cannot  contemplate  itfelf.  To  what 
Purpofe,  then,  is  Reafon  appointed  by  Nature  .? 

To  a  proper  Uie  of  the  Appearances  of  Things. 

And  what  is  Reafon  ? 

A  Com pofi lion  of  certain  Appearances  to  the 
Mind :  and,  thus,  by  its  Nature,  it  becomes  con- 
templative of  itfelf  too.  Again  :  what  Subieds  of 
Contemplation  belong  to  Prudence  ^ 

Good  and  Evil,  and  Indifferent. 

What,  then,  is  Prudence  itfelf  ? 

Good. 

What,  Imprudence  ^ 

Evil. 

You  fee,  then,  that  it  neceffarily  contemplates 
both  itfelf  and  its  contrary.  Therefore,  the  f^^rfl 
and  greatefl  Work  of  a  Philofopher  is,  to  try  and 
diilinguidi  the  Appearances  ;  and  to  admit  none 
untried.  Even  in  Money,  v/here  our  Intereft  feems 
to  be  concerned,  you  fee  what  an  Art  we  have  in- 
vented 


62  Tibe  Discourses^/        Book  L 

vented  ;  and  how  many  Ways  an  Aflayer  ufes  to 
try  its  Value.  By  the  Sight  ♦,  the  Touch  ;  the 
Smell  ;  and,  laftly,  the  Hearing.  He  throws  th^ 
Piece  down,  and  attends  to  the  Jingle  ;  and  is  not 
contented  with  its  Jingling  only  once  ;  but,  by  fre- 
quent Attention  to  it,  becomes  quite  mufical.  In 
the  fame  m.anner,  whenever  we  think  it  of  Confe- 
quence,  whether  we  are  deceived  or  not,  we  uic 
the  utmofl  Attention  to  diilinguifh  thole  Things 
which  may  polhbly  deceive  us.  But,  yawning  and 
numbering  over  the  poor  miferable  ruling  Faculty, 
we  admit  every  Appearance  that  offers.  For  here 
the  Mifchief  does  not  llrike  us.  When  you  would 
know,  then,  how  very  languidly  you  are  affeded 
by  Good  and  Evil,  and  how  vehemently  by  Things 
indifferent ;  confider  how  you  are  affedled  with  re- 
gard to  being  blinded  ^  and  how  v/ith  regard  to  be- 
ing deceived  ;  and  you  v/ill  find,  that  you  are  far 
from  being  nioved,  as  you  ought,  in  relation  to- 
Good  and  Evil. 

But  much  previous  Qiialification,  and  much  La- 
bour, and  Learning,  are  wanted. 

W^hat,  then  .^  Do  you  exped  the  greatefl  of 
Arts  is  to  be  acquired  by  flight  Endeavours  ?  And 
yet  the  principal  Dodrine  of  the  Philofophers,  of 
itfelf,  is  fhort.  If  you  have  a  mind  to  know  it, 
read  Zeno,  and  you  will  fee  (a).  For  what  Prolix- 
ity 

{a)  ZenOy  The  Founder  of  the  Sto'c  Se6l,^v/as  born  at  GV//- 
umy  a  Seaport  Town,  in  the  Ifland  oi  Cyprus.  He  was  original- 
ly a  Merchant  ;  and  ifery  rich.  On  a  Voyage  from  Tyre,  where  he 
had  been  trading  in  Purple,  he  was  (hipwrecked,  near  the  Pir^- 
us.  During  his  Stay  at  Jthens,  he  happened  to  meet,  in  a  Book- 
feller's  Shop,  with  the  Second  Book  oi' Xenophons  Memoirs  i 
with  which  he  was  extremely  delighted  j  and  aflced  the  Book- 
feller,  where  fuch  kind  of  Perfons,  as  the  Author  mentioned, 
were  to  be  found.  The  Bookfeller  anfwered,  pointing  to  Cratesj 
the  Cynic,  who  was  luckily  palling  by;  Follow  him  :  which 
Zeno  did,  and  became  his  Difciple.  But  his  Difpofition  was  too 
modeft  to  approve  of  the  Cynic  Indecency  :  and,  forfaking 
Crates,  he  applied  hirafelf  to  the  Academics ;  whom  he  attend- 
ed for  ten  Years>  and  then  formed  a  School  of  his  own.    There 

W3» 


Chap.  21.      EPICTETUS.  6^ 

ity  is  there  in  faying,  Our  End  is  to  follow  the  Gods  ? 
And,  l^he  Ejfence  of  Good  confifls  in  the  -proper  Ufe  of 
the  Appearances  of  things.  Indeed,  if  you  fay. 
What,  then,  is  God  ?  Vy^hat  is  an  Appearance  ? 
What  is  particular,  what  univerfal  Nature  ?  Here 
the  Affair  becomes  prolix.  And  io^  if  Epicurus 
fhouid  come  and  fay,  that  Good  mufl  be  placed  in 
Body  ;  here,  too,  it  will  be  prolix  :  and  it  will  be 
neceffary  to  hear,  what  is  the  principal,  the  fub- 
ilantial  and  effential  Part  in  us.  It  is  unlikely,  that 
the  Good  of  a  Snail  (hould  be  placed  in  the  Shell  : 
and,  is  it  likely,  that  the  Good  of  a  Man  fhouid  ? 
You  yourfelf,  Epicurus^  have  fomething  fuperior  to 
this.  What  is  That  in  you,  which  deliberates, 
which  examines,  which  forms  the  Judgment,  con- 
cerning Body  itfelf,  that  it.  is  the  principal  Part } 
And  why  do  you  light  your  Lamp,  and  labour  for 
us,  and  write  fo  many  Books  ?  That  we  may  not 
be  ignorant  of  the  Truth  ?  What  are  J^e  .?  What 
are  we  to  Tou  ?  Thus  the  Dodtrine  becomes  pro- 
lix. 

CHAPTER    XXL 

Of  the  Dejire  of  Admiration. 

WH  E  N  a  Perfon  maintains  his  proper  Station 
in  Life,  he  doth  not  gape  after  Externals. 
What  would  you  have,  Man  } 

*'  I  am  contented,  if  my  Defires  and  Averfions 
"  are  conformable  to  Nature  :  if  I  manage  my 

''  Powers 

was  3  conftant  Severity,  or,  perhaps,  Aufterlty,  in  his  Man- 
ners, his  Drefs,  and  his  Difcourfe ;  except  at  an  Entertainment, 
when  he  ufed  to  appear  with  Chearfiilnefs  and  Eal'e.  His  Mo- 
rals were  irreproachable  :  and  he  was  prefented  by  the  Athenians 
v/ith  a  golden  Crown  ;  becaufe  his  Life  was  a  public  Example 
of  Virtue,  by  its  Conformity  with  his  Words  and  Dodrines, 
He  lived  Ninety-eight  Years,  and  then  ftrangled  himfelf ;  be- 
taufe,  in  going  out  of  his  School,  he  happened  to  fall  down, 
and  break  his  Finger,     DioG.  Laert.  iu  Zeno. 


64  ^he  Discourses  of         Book  I. 

*'  Powers  of  Purfuit  and  Avoidance,  my  Purpofes, 
*'  and  Intentions  and  Aflent,  in  the  manner  I  was 
"  formed  to  do." 

Why,  then,  do  you  walk  as  if  you  had  fw allow- 
ed a  Spit  ? 

*'  1  could  wifh  moreover  to  have  all  who  meet 
*'  me,  admire  me,  and  all  who  follow  me,  cry 
*'  out,  What  a  great  Philofopher!" 

Who  are  thore,'by  whom  you  would  be  admi- 
red? Are  they  not  the  very  People,  who,  you 
ufed  to  fay,  were  mad  ?  What,  then,  would  you 
be  admired  by  Madmen  ? 

CHAPTER    XXIL 

Of  P re-conceptions. 

§.  i.T)Re-conceptions  {a)  are  common  to  all  Men : 
JL  and  one  Pre-conception  doth  not  contradict 
another.  For,  who  of  us  doth  not  lay  it  down  as 
a  Maxim,  That  Good  is  advantageous  and  eligible, 
and  at  all  Events,  to  be  purfued  and  followed  : 
that  Jufliice  is  fair  and  becoming  ?  Whence,  then, 
arifes  the  Difpute  ? In  adapting  thefe  Precon- 
ceptions to  particular  Cafes.  As,  when  one  cries  ; 
*'  Such  a  Perfon  hath  a£ted  well  :  he  is  a  gallant 
*'  Man  :'*  and  another  •,  ''  No  \  he  hath  aCled 
like  a  Fool."  Hence  arifes  the  Difpute  among 
Men.  This  is  the  Difpute  between  fews^  and  Sy- 
rians^ and  Egyptians^  and  Romans  :  not  whether 
Sandity.be  preferable  to  all  Things,  and  in  every 
Inflance  to  be  purfued  ;  but  whether  the  eating 
Swine's  Flefn  be  confident  with  Sanctity,  or  not. 
This,  too,  you  will  find  to  have  been  the  Difpute 
between  /f if M/f^j  and  Agmnemnon,  For,  call  them 
forth.  -  What  fay  you,  Agamemnon  ?  Ought  not 
that  to  be  done,  which  is- fit  and  right? — — Yes, 

furely. 

(tf)  See  Introdu^Jon,  §.  lo. 


Chap.  22.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  65 

furely. Afbilles^  what  fay  you  ?  Is  it  not  agree- 
able to  you,  that  what  is  right  ihould  be  done  p 

Yes  :  beyond  every  ctlier  thing.  Adapt  your  Pre- 
conceptions, then.  Here  begins  the  Difpute.  One 
lays ;  "  It  is  not  fit,  that  I  Ihould  reilore  Chryfeis 
"  to  her  Father."  The  Other  fays  ;  "  Yes  ;  but 
''it  is."  One,  or  the  other  of  them,  certainly  makes 
a  wrong  Adaptation  of  the  Pre-conception  diFitnefs, 
Again  :  one  fays  \  "  If  it  be  fit,  that  I  Ihould  give 
''  up  Cbryfds  \  it  is  fit,  too,  that  I  fhould  take  fome 
*'  one  of  your  Prizes."  The  other  :  ''  What,  that 
*'  you  Ihould  take  my  Millrefs  V"  "  Ay  ;  yours." 
*'  What,  mine  only  .?  Muft  /only,  then,  lofe  my 
"  Prize  r 

§.2.  What,  then,  is  it  to  be  properly  educated .? 
To  learn  how  to  adapt  natural  Pre- conceptions  to 
particular  Cafes,  conformably  to  Nature  :  and,  for 
the  future,  to  diftinguiih,  that  fome  Things  are  in 
our  own  Power  ;  others  not.  In  our  own  Pov/er, 
are  Choice,  and  all  Adions  dependent  on  Choice  : 
not  in  our  Power,  the  Body,  the  Parts  of  the  Body, 
Property,  Parents,  Brothers,  Children,  Country  ; 
and,  in  fhort,  all  v/ith  whom  we  are  engaged  in  So- 
ciety. Where,  then,  fhall  vi/e  place  Good  ^  To 
what  kind  of  Things  (hail  we  adapt  the  Pre-concep- 
tion of  it  ?  To  that  in  our  own  Power. 

§.  3.  What,  then,  is  not  Flealth,  and  Strength, 
and  Life,  good  ^  And  are  not  Children,  nor  Pa- 
rents, nor  Country  .^  Who  will  have  Patience  with 
you } 

Let  us  transfer  it,  then,  to  the  other  Sort  of 
Things.     Can  he  w]io  fuiiers  Harm,  and  is  difap- 
pointed  of  good  Things,  be  happy  ? 
He  cannot. 

And  can  he  preferve  a  right  Behaviour  with  re- 
gard to  Society  ,?  How  is  it  pofiible  he  fhould  .?  P'or 
I  am  naturally  led  to  my  own  Interefl:.  If,  there- 
fore, it  is  for  my  Intereii,  to  have  an  Eflate,  it  is 
for  my  fntereil  likewife  to  take  it  away  from  my 

F  fsJeighbour. 


66  The  Discourses  of        Book  I. 

Neighbour.  If  it  is  for  my  Intereft  to  have  a  Suit 
of  Clothes  ;  it  is  for  my  Intereft  fikewife  to  fteal  it 
wherever  I  find  it  (3).  Hence  Wars,  Seditions, 
Tyranny,  upjufl:  hivafions.  How  fhall  I,  if  this  be 
the  Cafe,  be  able,  any  longer,  to  preferve  my  Duty 
towards  Jupiter  Mf  i  fuffer  Harm,  and  am  difap- 
pointed,  he  takes  no  care  of  me.  And,  what  is 
Jupiter  to  me,  if  he  cannot  help  me  :  or,  again  ; 
what  is  he  to  me,  if  he  chufes  I  fhould  be  in  the 
Condition  lam  ?  Henceforward  I  begin  to  hate  him. 
What,  then,  do  we  build  Temples,  do  we  raife  Sta- 
tues, to  Jupiter^  as  to  evil  Demons,  as  to  the  God- 
defs  Fever  ?  How,  at  this  rate,  is  he  the  Prefer- 
ver  ;  and  how  the  Difpenfer  of  Rain  and  Plenty  ? 
If  v/e  place  the  Eflence  of  Good  any-where  here, 

all  this  will  follow. What,  then,  fhall  we  do  ? 

§.  4.  This  is  the  Enquiry  of  him  who  philolb- 
phizes  in  reality,  and  labours  to  bring  forth  [Truth]. 
"  Do  [c)  not  I  now  fee  what  is  good,  and  what  is 
evil  ?"     Surely  I  am  in  my  Senfes.   Ay  :  but  fhall 
I  place  Good  any-where  on  this  other  Side  ;   in 
Things  dependent  [only]  on  my  own  Choice }  Why, 
every  one  will  laugh  at  me.     Some  grey-headed 
old  Fellow  will  come,  with  his  Fingers  covered  with 
Gold  Rings,  and  fhake  his  Head,  and  fay  ;  "  Hark 
*'  ye,  Child,  it  is  fit  you  fhould  learn  Philofbphy  ; 
^^  but  it  is  fit,  too,  you  fhould  have  Brains.     This 
"  is  Nonfenie.     You  learn  SyllogifmiS  from  Philo- 
"  fophers  :  but  how  you  are  to  ad,  you  know  bet- 
"  ter  than  they."     "  Then,  why  do  you  chide  me, 
"  Sir,  if  I  do  know."     What  can  I   fay  to  this 
Wretch  ?    If  I  make  no  AFifwer,  he  will  burfl. 
I  mufl  e'en  anfwer  thus  :   "  Forgive  me,  as  they 
*'  do  People  in  Love.     I  am  not  myfelf.     I  have 
''  loll  my  Senfes."  CHAP- 

{b)  Wars  and  Fightings  are  afcribed  to  the  fame  Caufes,  by 
St.  yamesy  iv.    i. 

[c)  This  feems  intended  to  exprefs  the  Per plexity  of  a  Perfon 
convinced,  that  Good  is  not  10  be  found  in  Externals  ;  and  afraid 
of  popular  Raillery,  if  he  places  it  in  fuch  Things  only,  as  de- 
pend on  our  own  Choice. 


Ghap.  23.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  Cy 

CHAPTER    XXIII. 

Againfi   Epicurus. 

§.  I.T7  VEN  Epicurus  is  fenfible,  that  we  are  by 
Jlj  Nature  foci  able  :  but  having  once  placed 
our  Good  in  the  mere  Shell,  he  can  fay  nothing  af- 
terwards different  from  that.  For,  again,  he  itre- 
nuoufly  maintains,  that  we  ought  not  to  admire, 
or  receive,  any  thing  feparated  from  the  Nature  of 
Good.  And  he  is  in  the  right  to  maintain  it.  But 
how,  then,  came  {a)  any  fuch  Sufpicions  [as  your 
Doctrines  imply,  to  arife],  if  we  have  no  natural 
Affedion  towards  an  Offspring  ?  Why  do  you,  Ep- 
curus^  dilTuade  a  wife  Man  from  bringing  up 
Children  \  Why  are  you  afraid,  that,  upon  their 
Account,  he  may  fall  into  Uneafmefies  ?  Doth  he 
fall  into  any  for  a  Moufe,  that  feeds  within 
his  Houfe  }  What  is  it  to  him,  if  a  little  Moufe  be- 
wails itfelf  there  }  But  Epicurus  knew,  that,  if  once 
a  Child  is  born,  it  is  no  longer  in  our  Power  not  to 
love  and  be  folicitous  for  it.  For  the  fame  Reafbn, 
he  fays,  a  wife  man  will  not  engage  himfelf  in  pub- 
lic Bufinefs :  for  he  knew  very  well,  what  fuch  an 
Engagement  would  oblige  him  to  do  :  For  what 
fhould  reftrain  any  one  from  Affairs,  if  we  may  be- 
have among  Men,  as  we  would  amiong  a  Swarm  of 
Flies 

§.  2.  And  doth  He,  who  knov;s  all  this,  dare 
to  bid  us  not  bring  up  Children  ?  Not  even  a 
Sheep,  or  a  Wolf,  deferts  its  Offspring  \  and  ihall 
Man  P  What  v/ould  you  have  ?  That  we  fliould 
be  as  filly  as  Sheep  ?  Yet  even  thefe  do  not  de- 
fert  their  Offspring.  Or  as  favage  as  Wolves  ? 
Neither  do  thefe  defert  thera.     Pray,  who  would 

F  2  mind 

{a\  This  PafTage  is  obfcure  ;  and  varioufly  read,  an(3  explain- 
ed by  the  Commencators.  it  is  here  traijflated  conjeciuially. 


68  ne  D I  s  c  0  u  R  s  £  s  0/         Book  I 

mind  you,  if  he  faw  his  Child  fallen  upoil  the 
Ground,  and  crying?  For  my  part,  I  am  of  Opi- 
nion, that  your  Father  and  Mother,  even  if  they 
could  have  forefeen,  that  you  would  have  been 
the  Author  of  fuch  Dodlrines^  would  not^  how- 
ever, have  thrown  you  away*  ~ 

/CHAPTER    XXIV. 

How  we  are  to  firii^gle  with  Difficulties. 

§.  i.TPSlfficulties  are  the  Things  that  fhew  what 
X-J  Men  are.  For  the  future,  on  any  Diffi- 
culty, remember,  That  God,  like  a  {a)  Mailer  of 
Exercife,  has  engaged  you  with  a  rough  Anta- 
gonifl. 

For  what  End  ? 
■  That  you  may  be  a  Conqueror,  like  one  in  the 
Olympic  Games  :  and  it  cannot  be  without  Toil. 
No  Man,  in  my  Opinion,  has  a  more  advantageous 
Difficulty  on  his  Hands  than  you  have  ;  provided 
you  will  but  ufe  it,  as  an  athletic  Champion  doth 
h's  Antagonifl:.  We  are  now  fending  {h)  a  Spy  to 
Rome  :  but  no  one  ever  fends  a  timorous  Spy, 
who,  when  he  only  hears  a  Noife,  or  fees  a 
Shadow,  runs  back,  frighted  out  of  his  Wits,  and 
fays  ;  "  The  Enemy  isjufl  at  hand."  So  now,  if 
you  fhould  come  and  tell  us  ;  "  Things  are  in  a 
*'  fearful  Way  at  Rome  :  Death  is  terrible  ;  Banifh- 
'*  ment,    terrible ;    Calumny,   terrible ;    Poverty, 

'*  terrible  : 

(rt)  The  Gree^  Word  fignifits,  a  Perfon  who  ufed  to  anoint 
the  Body  of.  the  Combatants :  and  prepare  them,  by  proper 
Exercifes  for  the  Olympic  Games. 

{I?)  Probably,  according  to  Mr.  Uj)toK's  Conjefture  71  fhould 
be  <T£.     We  fend  yau. 

WoWus  ir:^gines  this  PafTage  to  allude  to  the  Commotions  af- 
ter the  Death  oi  Nero ;  when  there  were  many  Competitors  for 
the  Empire  ;  and  every  one  was  eager  to  take  the  Part  of  him 
who  appeared  tp  h^ve  ;he  gr^ateil  Probability  of  Succels. 


Chap.  24.      E  P  I  €  T  E  T  U  S.  6g 

*'  terrible  :  run,  good  People,  the  Enemy  is  at 
"  band  :"  we  will  anlvver  -,  Get  you  gone,  and 
pcopheiy  for  yourfelf ;  our  only  Fault  is,  that  we 
have  Tent  fuch  a  Spy.  Diogenes  {c)  was  fent  a  Spy 
before  you :  but  he  told  us  other  Tidings.  He  fays. 
That  Death  is  no  Evil .-,  for  it  is  nothihg  bafe  :  that 
Defamation  is  only  the  Noiie  of  Madmen.  And 
vhat  Account  did  this  Spy  give  us  of  Pain  ^  Of 
Pleafure  ?  Of  Poverty  ?  He  fays,  that,  to  be  naked 
is  betiter  than  a  Purple  Robe  :  to  fleep  upon  the 
bare  Ground  the  foftefl  Bed  :  and  gives  a  Proof  of 
all  he  fays,  by  his  own  Courage,  Tranquillity,  and 
Freedom  ;  and,  moreover,  by  a  healthy  and  robuft 
Body.  There  is  no  Enemy  near,  fays  he.  All  i^ 
profound  Peace. -^ How  fo,  Diogenes  ?  Look  up- 
on me^  fays  he.  Am  /  hurt  ?  Am  /  wounded  ? 
Have  I  run  a\yay  from  any  one  ?  This  is  fuch  a  Spy 
as  he  ought  to  be.  But  you  come,  and  tell  us  one 
Thing  after  another.  Go  back  again,  and  examine 
Things  more  exadtly,  and  without  Fear. 

§.  2.  What  fhall  I  do,  then  ? 

What  do  you  do  wlien  you  come  out  of  a  Ship  ? 
Do  you  take  away  the  Rudder,  or  the  Oars,  along 
with  you  }  What  do  you  take,  then  }  Your  own, 
your  Bottle,  and  your  Bundle.  So,  in  the  prefenc 
Cafe,  if  you  will  but  remember  what  is  your  own, 
you  will  not  claim  what  belongs  to  others.  Are 
you  bid  to  put  off  your  Confular  Robe  ? — W^ell : 
i  am  in  my  Equeflrian.  Put  off  that  too. — I  have 
F  }  only 

{c)  Diogenes,  pafllng  through  the  Camp  of  Philip,  at  the  Tfm^ 
that  he  was  on  his  March  againft  the  Greeks,  was  taken,  and 
brought  before  the  King  ;  who,  not  knowing  him,  allced,  If 
he  was  a  Spy.  Yes,  certainly,  Philip  (anfwered  the  Philofo- 
pher),  I  am  a  Spy  of  your  Inconfideratenefs,  and  Folly,  in  rlf- 
quing  your  Kingdom  and  Perfon,  without  any  Npceflity,  upon 
the  Hazard  of  a  fingle  Hour.  Upton.  The  Story  is  thus  told 
by  Plutarch  ;  hvi  is  related  foracthing  differently  by  other  Au- 
thors. 


70  The  D  IS  co\j  KS1E.S  of        Book  L 

only  my  Coat. — Put  off  that  too. — Well  :  I  am 
naked. — Still  you  raife  my  Envy. — Then  e'en  take 
my  whole  Body.  If  I  can  throw  off  a  paultry  Body, 
am  I  any  longer  afraid  of  a  Tyrant  (J)  ^ 

§.5.  But  fuch  a  one  will  not  leave  me  his  Heir. 
"What,  then,  have  I  forgot,  that  none  of  thefe 
Things  is  mine  .?  How,  then,  do  we  call  them 
nune  .^  As  a  Bed,  in  an  Inn.  If  the  Landlord 
when  he  dies,  leaves  you  the  Beds ;  well  and  good  : 
but,  if  to  another,  they  will  be  his ;  and  you  will 
feek  one  elfewhere  :  and,  confequently,  if  you  do 
not  lind  one,  you  will  lleep  upon  the  Ground  :  on- 
ly Deep  quiet,  and  fnore  foundly ;  and  remember, 
that  Tragedies  have  no  other  Subjeds,  but  the 
Rich,  and  Kings,  and  Tyrants.  No  poor  Man  fills 
any  other  Place  in  one,  than  as  Part  of  the  Chorus : 
whereas  Kings  begin^  indeed  withProfperity.  "  Crcwn 
"  the  Palace  with  feftive  Garlands  (<?)." — But,  then, 
about  the  third  or  fourth  Ad  ;  ''  Alas^  Citheron  ! 
''  why  didfi  ihou  receive  me  V  Where  are  thy 
Crowns,  Wretch  •,  where  is  thy  Diadem  ^.  Cannot 
thy  Guards  help  thee  } 

Whenever  you  approach  any  of  thefe  then,  re- 
member, that  you  meet  a  Tragic  Player  ;  or,  ra- 
ther, not  an  Ador,  but  Oedipus  himfelf.- But 

flich  a  one  is  happy.  He  walks  with  a  numerous 
Train.  Well :  I  join  myfelf  with  the  Croud,  and 
I  too  walk  with  a  numerous  Train. 

§.  4.  But,  remember  the  principal  thing  \  That 
the  Door  is  open.  Do  not  be  more  fearful  than 
Children  ;  but,  as  they,  v/hen  the  Play  doth  not 
pleafe  them,  fay  ;  ''  1  will  play  no  longer  :"  fb  do 
*'  you,  in  the  fame  Cafe,  fay ;  'M  will  play  no  lon- 
ger ;"  and  go  :  but,  if  you  flay,  do  hot  complain. 

CHAP. 

(d)  The  Tranflation  follpws  MrMptan^s  Reading, 
(ej  AaAliuficn  to  the  Osdip}^_  iii  SppMeu 


Chap.  25.        EPICTETUS.  71 

CHAPTER    XXV. 

On   the  fame  Subject, 

§.  i.TF  thefe  Things  are  true ;  and  we  are  not  ftih 
A  pid,  or  ading  a  Part,  \\  hen  we  fay,  that  the 
Good  or  III  of  Man  confifts  in  Choice,  and  that  all 
befides  is  nothing  to  us  ;  why  are  we  ft  ill  troubled  ? 
Why  do  we  flill  fear  ?  What  hath  been  our  Con- 
cern, is  in  no  one's  Power  :  what  is  in  the  Power  of 
others,  we  do  not  regard.  What  Embaraffment 
have  we  left  ? 

But  direct  me. 

Why  (hould  /  dire6t  you  ?  Hath  not  Jupiter  di- 
reded  you  P  Hath  he  not  given  you  what  is  your 
cwn^  Incapable  of  Reftraint,  or  Hindrance  -,  and 
what  is  not  your  own,  liable  to  both  ?  What  Direc- 
tions, then,  what  Orders,  have  you  brought  from 
him  ?  '*  By  all  Methods  keep  what  is  your  own  : 
*'  what  belongs  to  others,  do  not  covet.  Honefty, 
''  is  your  own  :  a  Senfe  of  virtuous  Shame  is  your 
"  own.  Who,  then,  can  deprive  you  of  thefe  } 
"  Who  can  reflrain  you  from  making  ufe  of  them, 
"  but  yourfelf .?  And  how  do  you  do  it  ^  When 
*'  you  make  that  your  Concern  which  is  not  your 
"  own,  you  lofe  what  is."  Having  fuch  Precepts 
and  Diredions  from  Jupiter^  what  fort  do  you  flill 
want  from  me  ?  Am  /better  than  He  ?  More  v/or- 
thy  of  Credit  ^  If  you  obferve  thefe,  what  others  do 
you  need  .^  Or  are  not  thefe  Diredions  his  ?  Pro- 
duce your  natural  Preconceptions  :  produce  the 
Demonflrations  of  Philofophers :  pioduce  what  you 
have  often  heard,  and  what  you  have  faid  your- 
felf; what  you  have  read,  and  what  you  have  ilu- 
died. 

How  long  is  it  right  to  obferve  thefe  Things,  and 
not  break  up  the  Game  ^  * 

F  4  As 


^2  7^(f  Discourses©/  Bopk  I. 

As  long  as  it  goes  on  agreeably.  A  King  is  cho- 
fen  at  the  Saturnalian  Feltival  (for  it  v/as  agreed  to 
play  at  that  Game)  :  he  orders  ;  "  Do  you  drink  ; 
*'  you  mix  the  Wine  :  you  fmg  :  you  go  :  you 
''  come.'*     I  obey  ;  that  the  Game  may  not  be 

broken  up  by  my  Fault. '^  Well  :  but  I  bid 

*^'  you  think  yourfelf  to  be  unhappy."  I  do  not 
think  fo  :  and  who  fhall  compel  me  to  think  fo  i^ 
Again  :  we  agreed  to  play  Agamemnon  and  Achilles, 
He  who  is  appointed  for  Agamemnon^  fays  to  me  *, 
*'  Go  to  Achilles,^  and  force  away  Brifeis,^*  I  go. 
*'  Come.'*     1  come. 

§.  2.  We  fhoLild  converfe  in  Life  as  we  do  in  hy- 
pothetical Arguments.     "  Suppofe  it  to  be  Night.'* 

-r — Well  :  "fuppofe  it. "  Is  it  Day,  then.?" 

No  :    for   I  admitted    the   Hypothefis,    that  it  is 

Night. "  Suopofe,   that  you  think   it   to    be 

''  Night." Well:  fuppofeit. But  think  al- 

*'  fo,  in  reality,  that  it  is  Night." That  doth 

not  follow  from  the  Hypotliefis.  Thus,  too,  in  the 
other  Cafe.  Suppofe  you  have  ill  Luck. Sup- 
pofe it,- "  Are  you,  then,  unlucky  V Yes. 

"-^ "■  Have    you    fome   crofs  Demon." Yes. 

■ <'  Well :  but  think  too  [in  earneft],  that  you 

"  are  unhappy. "-^ This  doth  not  follow  from 

the  Hypothefis  :  and  there  is  one  who  forbids  me 
[to  think  fo]. 

Ho'.v  long,   then,  are  we  to  obey  fuch  Orders  .^- 

As  long  as  it  is  worth  while  :  tliat  is,  as  long 
as  I  prefer ve  what  is  becom^ing  and  fit. 

§.  3.  Further  :  fome  are  peevifh  and  faftidious  \ 
and  fay,  I  cannot  dine  \vith  fuch  a  Fellow,  to  be 
obliged  to  hear  him  all  Day  recounting,  how  lie 
fought  in  Myfia.  ^^  I  told  you,  my  Friend,  howl 
*'  gained  the  Eminence.  There  I  am  befieged 
"  again."  But  another  fays,  "  I  had  rather  get 
"  a  Dinner,  and  hear  hirfi  prate  as  much  as  he 
*'  pleafes."      '    ^       '  ~ 


Chap.  25.      EPICTETUS.  73 

Do  yo,u  compare  th^  Value  of  thefe  Things,  and 
judge  for  yourfelf :  but  do  not  let  it  be  with  De- 
prellion,  and  Anxiety ;  and  with  a  Suppofition, 
that  you  are  unhappy  :  for  no  one  compels  you 
to  that.  Is  the  Houfe  in  a  Smoke  ?  Jf  it  be  a 
moderate  one,  I  will  flay  :  If  a  very  great  one, 
I  will  go  out.  For  you  mufl  always  remember, 
$nd  hold  to  this,  that  the  Door  is  open,  '■'  Well : 
"  do  not  live  at  Nicopolis'' — I  will  not  live  there, 
r— ''  Nor  at  Athens!' — Well  :  nor  at  Athens'.-^ 
*'  Nor  at  Rome^ — Nor  at  Rome  neither. — "  But 
*'  you  fh  ail  live  at  Gyaros  (a)'' — I  will  hve  there. 
But  living  at  Gyaros  feems  to  m^e  like  living  in 
^  great  Smoke,  I  will  retire  where  no  one  can 
forbid  me  to  live  ;  (for  that  Abode  is  open  to 
ailj  and  put  off  my  laft  (b)  Garment,  this  paul- 
try  Body  of  mine  :  beyond  this,  no  one  hath  any 
Power  over  me.  Thus  Demetrius  faid  to  Nero  ^ 
*'  You  fentence  me  to  Death  ;  and  Nature,  ^^z^  (c)  ;" 
If  I  place  my  Admiration  on  Body,  I  give  myfelf 
up  for  a  Slave  :  if  on  an  Eflate,  the  fame  :  for  I 
immediately  betray  myfelf,  how  I  m.ay  be  taken. 
Juft  as  when  a  Snake  pulls  in  his  Head,  I  fay  ftrikc 
|:hat  Part  of  him  which  he  guards  :  and  be  you  af- 

fured, 

[a)  An  Ifland  in  the  Mgean  Sea,  to  which  the  Romans  uTed 
to  banifii  Criminals. 

{b\  The  Bodv,  which  Epi^etus  here  compares  to  a  Garment, 
is,  by  the  facred  Writers,  reprefented  under  the  figure  of  a 
Houre,  or  Tabernacle,  Job  iv.  19.  2  Pet.  i.  13,  14,  St.  Paul 
with  a  fublime  Rapidity  of  Expreilion,  joins  the  two  Metaphor^ 

together,  2  Ccr.  v.  2 4.  as,  indeed,  the  one  is  but  a  loofer, 

jhe  other  a  clofer  Covering.  The  fame  Aportle  hath  made  ufe 
of  the  Figure  of  Clothing,  in  another  Place,  in  a  ftrikingly 
beautiful  Manner,  i  Cor.  xv.  53,  54. 

{c)  Anaxagcras  is  faid.  by  lome,  and  Socrates^  by  others,  to 
have  made  the  fame  Speech,  on  receiving  the  News  of  his  being 
condemned  to  Death  by  the  Judges  oi  Athens :  and  from  one  of 
them,  probably,  Demetrius  borrowed  it.  Demetrius  was  a  Cy. 
oic  Philofopher ;  ^nd  is  mentioned  with  high  Approbation  by 
Seneca, 


74  ^he  Discourses  of         Book  L 

flired,  that  whatever  you  fhew  a  Defire  to  guard, 
there  your  Mafter  will  attack  you.  Remember 
but  this,  whom  will  yt)u  any  longer  flatter,  or 
fear  ? 

But  I  want  to  fit  where  the  Senators  do. 

Do  not  you  fee,  that  by  this  you  ftraiten  your- 
felf  ?  You  fqueeze  yourfelf  ? 

Why,  how  elfe  fhall  I  fee  the  Show,  in  the 
Amphitheatre  cleverly  ? 

Do  not  fee  it  [at  all],  Man  ;  and  you  will  not 
be  fqueezed.  Why  do  you  give  yourfelf  Trouble  ? 
Or  wait  a  little  while  ;  and  when  the  Show  is  over, 
go  fit  in  the  Senators  Places,  and  fun  yourfelf. 
For  remember,  that  this  holds  univerfally  ;  we 
fqueeze  oiirfelves  ;  we  ftraiten  ourfelves  :  that  is  ; 
our  own  Principles  fqueeze  and  ftraiten  us.  What 
is  it  to  be  reviled,  for  Inftance  '^  Stand  by  a  Stone, 
and  revile  it ;  and  what  will  you  get .?  If  you,  there- 
fore, would  hear  like  a  Stone,  what  would  your 
Reviler  be  the  better  ?  But,  if  the  Reviler  hath  the 
W^eaknefs  of  the  Reviled  for  an  Advantage-ground, 
then  he  carries  his  Point.—-"  Strip  him."  "  What 
^  do  you  mean  by  him  ?''  "  Take  my  Clothes  ; 
**  ftrip  o^  them  [if  you  will]." — "  I  have  put  an 
*'  Affront  upon  you." — ''  Much  Good  may  it  do 
''  you." 

§.  4.  Thefe  Things  were  the  Study  o^ Socrates-, 
and,  by  this  means,  he  always  preferved  the  fame 
Countenance.  But  we  had  rather  exercife  and  ftu- 
dy  any  thing,  than  how  to  become  unreftrained 
and  free. 

The  Philofophers  talk  Paradoxes. 
And  are  there  not  Paradoxes  in  other  Arts? 
WTiat  is  more  paradoxical,  than  the  pricking  any 
pne'js  Eye,  to  make  him  fee  ?  If  a  Perfon  was  to  tell 
this  to  one  ignorant  of  Surgery,  would  not  he  laugh 
at  him  }  Where  is  the  Wonder  then,  if,  in  Philo- 
fophy  too, .  many  Truths  appear  Paradoxes  to  the 
Ignorant  r 

CHAP- 


Chap.  26.      E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  75 

CHAPTER    XXVI. 

What  the  Law  of  Life  is, 

§.  I.    \^  one  [of  his  Scholars]  was  reading  hypo- 
jLjL  thetical  Syllogifms  \  it  is  likewife  a  Law 
in  thele,  fays  Epi^etus^  to  admit  what  follows  from 
the  Hypothefis  :  but  much  more  is  it  a  Law  in  Life, 
to  do  what  follows  from  Nature.     For,  if  we  de- 
fire    in   every    Subjed  of  Adion,    and  in  every 
Circumftance,  to  keep  up  to.  Nature  ;  we  mufi:,  on 
every  Occafion,  evidently  make  it  our  Aim,  neither 
to  let  Confequences  efcape  our  Obfervation,    nor 
to  admit  Contradidtions.      Philofophers,  therefore, 
firfl  exercife  us  in  Theory,  which  is  the  more  ea- 
fy  Talk,  and  then  lead  us  to  the  more  difficult : 
for  in  Theory,  there  is  nothing  to  oppofe  our  fol- 
lowing what  we  are  taught ;  but  in  Life,  there  ars 
many  Things   to   draw  us  afide.     It  is  ridiculous 
then,  to  fay,  we  mufl  begin  from  thefe  :  for  it  is 
not  eafy  to  begin  from  the  moft  difficult :  and  this 
Excufe  muft  be  m.ade  to  thofe  Parents,  who  diflike 
that  their  Children  fhould  learn  philofophical  Spe- 
culations.— "  Am  I  to  blame  then,  Sir,  and  ig- 
"  norant  of  my  Duty,  and  of  what  is  incumbent 
"  on   me  ?    If  this   is  neither  to  be  learnt,  nor 
"  taught,  why  do  you  find  fault  with   me  ?  if  it 
"  is  to  be  taught,    pray  teach  me  yourfelf :  or, 
*'  if  you  cannot,  give  me  Leave  to  learn  it  iTom 
thofe  who  profefs   to  underfliand  it.     Befides  : 
do  you  think  that  I  voluntarily  fall  into  Evil, 
and   mifs    of  Good  ?    Heaven  forbid  !    What 
then,  is  the  Ca afe  of  my  Faults  ?"  Ignorance. 
Are  yoii   not    willing  then,  that   I  fhould  get 
rid  of  my  Ignorance  ?  Who  was  ever  taught 

"  the 


i< 


76  f/^^  D I  s  c  o  u  R  s  E  s  ^/       Book  1/ 

•*  the  Art  of  Mufic,  or  Navigation,  by  Anger? 
*^  Do  you  expedl  then,  that  your  Anger  fhould 
**  teach  me  the  Art  of  Living  ?"— — This  how- 
ver,  is  allowed  to  be  faid  only  by  one  who  real- 
ly hath  that  Intention.  But  he  who  reads  thefe 
Things,  and  applies  to  the  Philofophers,  merely 
for  the  fake  of  fhewing,  at  an  Entertainment, 
that  he  underflands  hypothetical  Syllogifms  ;  what 
doth  he  do  it  for,  but  to  be  admired  by  fbme 
Senator,  who  happens  to  fit  near  him  (^) 

§.  2 I  once  faw  a  Perfon  weeping  and 

embracing  the  Knees  of  Epaphroditus  ;  and  de- 
ploring his  hard  Fortune,  that  he  had  not  50,000/. 
left.  What  faid  Epaphroditus^  then  ?  DicJ  he 
laugh  at  him,  as  we  (hould  do  ?  No  :  but  cri-r 
ed  out  with  Aflonifhrnent,  Poor  Man  !  How  could 
you  be  filent  ?  How  could  you  bear  It  ? 

§.  3.  .......  The  firfl  Step,  therefore,  towards 

becoming  a  Philofopher,  is,  being  fenfible  in  what 
State  the  ruling  Faculty  of  the  Mind  is  :  for, 
when  ^  Perfon  knows  it  to  be  in  a  weak  one, 
he  will  not  immediately  employ  it  in  great  At- 
tempts. But,  for  want  of  this,  fome,  who  can 
fcarce  get  down  a  Morfel,  buy,  and  fet  them- 
felves  to  fwallow,  whole  Treatifes  ;  and  fo  they 
throw  them  up  again,  or  cannot  digeit  them  : 
and  then  come  Cholics,  Fluxes,  and  Fevers. 
Such  Perfons  ought  to  confider  what  they  can 
bear.  Indeed,  it  is  eafy  to  convince  an  ignorant 
Perfon  in  Theory  •,  but  in  Matters  relating  to  Life, 
no  one  offers  himfelf  to  Conviction  ;  and  we 
hate  thofe  who  have  convinced  us.  Socrates 
ufed  to  fay,  that  we  ought  not  to  live  a  Life 
unexamined. 

CHAP- 

(a)  The  Text  is  fo  very  conupt  m  fome  Parts  of  this  Chap* 
ter,  that  the  Tranflation  muft  have  been  wholly  COnjeclufa}  j^ 
and  therefore  is  omitted. 


Chap.  27.     E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  77 

CHAPTER    XXVII. 

Of  the  fever al  Appearances  of  Things  to  the  Mind  : 
and  what  Remedies  are  to  be  provided  for  them, 

§.  I .  A  PPEARANCES  to  the  IVl  ind  are  of  Four 
jL\,  Kinds.  Things  are  either  what  they 
appear  to  be  :  or  they  neither  are,  nor  appear  to 
be  :  or  they  are,  and  do  not  appear  to  be :  or  they 
are  not,  and  yet  appear  to  be.  To  form  a  right 
Judgment  in  all  thefe  Cafes,  belongs  only  to  the 
completely  Inflruded.  But  whatever  preffes,  to 
that  a  Remedy  muft  be  applied.  If  the  Sophiftries 
of  Pyrrhonifin  (a)^  or  the  Academy,  prefs  us,  the 
Remedy  muil  be  applied  there :  if  fpecious  Ap- 
pearances, 

(a)  Pyrrhsy  thq  Founder  of  the  Sect  of  the  Pyrrhonijlsy  was 
born  at  Elis^  and  flouriflied  about  the  Time  of  Alexander.  He 
held,  That  there  is  no  Difference  between  Juft  and  Unjuft, 
Good  and  Evil :  that  all  Things  are  equally  indiiferent,  uncer- 
tain, and  undiftlnguifhable  :  that  neither  our  Senfes  or  Under- 
ftanding  give  us  either  a  true  or  a  falfe  Information  :  therefore, 
that  we  ought  to  give  them  no  Credit ;  but  to  remain  without 
Opinion  j  without  iVIotion  ;  without  Inclination  j  and  to  fa/ 
of  every  thing,  that  it  no  more  /V,  than  it  is  not ;  tliat  it  is  no 
more  one  thing  than  another  ;  and  that  againft  one  R.ea{bn', 
there  is  always  an  equal  Reafon  to  be  oppofed.  His  Life  is  faid 
to  have  been  conformable  to  his  Principles  ;  for  that  he  never 
avoided  any  thing  :  and  his  Friends  were  obliged  to  follow 
him,  to  prevent  his  running  under  the  Wheels  of  a  Coach,  or 
walkincr  down  a  Precipice.  But  thefe  Stories,  perhaps,  are  no- 
thing but  mere  Invention  ;  formed  to  expofe  the  Abfurdities  of 
his  Syftem.  Once,  when  he  faw  his  Mailer  Anaxarchus  fallen 
into  a  Ditch,  he  paffed  by  him,  without  offering  him  any  Affif- 
tance.  Anaxarchus  was  confiftent  enough  with  his  Principles, 
not^  to  fuft'er  Fyrrho  to  be  blamed  for  this  Tranquil  Behaviour: 
which  hejullifted,  as  a  laudable  In ftance  of  Indifference,  and 
Want  of  Affeaion.   A  fine  Piaure  this,  of  fceptical  Friendlliip  I 

For  a  more  complete  Account  of  the  Syltem  o^'  Fyrrho,  fee 
DiOG.  Laert.  in  his  Life.  And  Lipsius  Manuduil.  adSigic, 
^hikfoih.  B.  ii.  Dif.  s. 


78  W(?DiscouRSES(7/*        Bookl^ 

pearances,  by  which  Things  feem  to  be  good  which 
are  not  fo,  let  us  feek  for  a  Comedy  there.  If  it  be 
Cuflom  which  prefTes  us,  we  mufl  endeavour  to  find 
a  Remedy  againft  that. 

,   AVhat  Remedy  is  to  be  found  againfl  Cuftom  ? 
A  contrary  Cuftom.    You  hear  the  Vulgar  fay, 

"  Such  a  one,  poor  Soul!  is  dead." Why,  his 

Father  died  :    his  Mother  died. "  Ay  :  but  he 

**  was  cut  off  in  the  Flower  of  his  Age,  and  in  a 

"  foreign  Land." Hear  the  contrary  Ways  of 

Speaking  :  withdraw  yourfelf  from  thefe  Expref- 
fions.  Oppofe  to  one  Cuftom,  a  contrary  Cuftom  j 
to  Sophiftry,  the  Art  of  Reafoning,  and  the  fre- 
quent Uie  and  Exercife  of  it.  Againft  fpecious 
Appearances,  we  muft  have  dear  Pre-conceptions, 
brightened  up,  and  ready.  When  Death  appears 
as  an  Evil,  we  ought  immediately  to  remember, 
that  Evils  may  be  avoided,  but  Death  is  Neceffity. 
For  what  can  I  do,  or  where  can  I  fly  from  it  ? 
Let  me  fuppofe  myfelf  to  be  Sarpedon^  the  Son  of 
Jove^  that  I  may  fpeak  in  the  fame  gallant  Way. 

Brave  tM  we  die^  and  honoured  if  we  live ; 
Or  let  us  Glory  gain^  or  Glory  give.  Pope. 

If  I  can  atchieve  noticing  myfelf,  I  will  not  en- 
vy another  the  Honour  of  doing  fome  gallant  Ac- 
tion. But  fuppofe  this  to  be  a  Strain  too  high  for 
U'S  ;  are  not  we  capable  [at  leaft]  of  arguing  thus  ? 

« Where  fhall  I  fly  from  Death  ?    Shew  me  the 

Place  ;  ftiew  me  the  People,  to  whom  I  may  have 
Recourfe,  whom  Death  doth  not  overtake.  Shew  me 
the  Charm  to  avoid  it.  If  there  be  none,  what  would 
you  have  me  do .?  I  cannot  efcape  Death  :  but  {b) 
cannot  1  efcape  the  Dread  of  it  ?  Muft  I  die  trem- 
bling, and  lamenting  ?  For  the  Origin  of  the 
Difeaie  is,  wifliing  for  fbmething  that  is  not  ob- 
tained, 

(b)    The  Tranflation    follows    Mr.  Upton's  Reading,   ca 


Chap.  27.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  79 

tained.  In  confequence  of  this,  if  I  can  bring  over 
Externals  to  my  own  Inclination,  I  do  it :  if  not, 
I  want  to  tear  out  the  Eyes  of  whoever  hinders 
me.  For  it  is  the  Nature  of  Man,  not  to  bear  the 
being  deprived  of  Good ;  not  to  bear  the  falling  into 
Evil.  And  fo,  at  lafl,  when  I  can  neither  bring 
over  Things  [to  my  own  Inclination],  nor  tear  out 
the  Eyes  of  him  who  hinders  me,  I  fit  down,  and 
groan,  and  revile  him  whom  I  can ;  Jupiter^  and 
the  reft  of  the  Gods  (c).  For  what  are  they  to  me, 
if  they  take  no  care  of  me  ? 

Oh  !  but  you  will  be  guilty  of  Impiety. 

What  then  ?  Can  I  be  in  a  worfe  Condition 
than  I  am  now }  In  general,  remember  this,  That, 
iinlefs  Piety  and  Interefh  be  placed  in  the  fame 
Thing,  Piety  cannot  be  prefeived  in  any  mortal 
Breaft. 

§.  2.  Do  not  thefe  Things  feem  to  have  Force  (i)  ? 
Let  a  Pyrrbonift^  or  an  Academic,  come  and  op- 
pofe  them.  For  my  part,  I  am  not  at  Leifure ; 
nor  able  to  ftand  up  as  an  Advocate  for  general 
Confent.  Even  if  Bufinefs  were  concerning  an 
Eftate,  I  fhould  call  in  another  Advocate.  With 
what  Advocate,  then,  am  I  contented  [in  the  prelenr 
Cafe]  ?  With  any  that  may  be  upon  the  Spot.  I 
may  be  at  a  Lofs,  perhaps,  to  give  a  Reafon,  how 
Senfation  is  performed  :  whether  it  be  diftufed  uni- 
verfally,  or  refide  in  a  particular  Part :  for  I  find 
Difficulties  that  fhock  me,  in  each  Cafe :  but,  that 
you  and  I  are  not  the  fame  Per  (on,  I  very  exadly 
know. 

How  fo } 

Why, 

(c)  The  blafpbemous  Impatience,  here  introduced,  refem- 
bias  thaC  which  is  ftrongly  defcribed,  in  a  few  Words,  If.  viii. 

21. When  they  (hall  he  hungry^   they  Jfy  all  fret  themjel'ves  ; 

and  curfe  their  King^  and  their  God,  and  look  upn.'jard. 

(d)  This  is  fpoken  in  Oppofition  to  the  Sceptics,  who  are 
alluded  to  in  the  Beginning  of  the  Chapter  -,  and  who  fay,  that 
no  Argument  hath  any  Force. 


^o  "The  Discourses  of        Book  I. 

Why,  I  never,  when  I  have  a  mind  to  fwalJow 
any  thing,  carry  it  to  your  Mouth ;  but  my  own.  I 
never,  when  I  wanted  to  take  a  Loaf,  took  a  Brufh  ; 
but  went  diredly  to  the  Loaf,  as  fit  to  anfwer  my 
Purpole.  And  do  you  yourfeh^es,  who  deny  all 
Evidence  of  the  Senles,  act  any  otherwife  ?  Who 
of  yon,  when  he  intended  to  go  into  a  Bath,  ever 
went  into  a  MiU  ? 

What,  then,  mufl  not  we,  to  the  utmoft,  de- 
fend thefe  Points?  fupport  the  general  Confent  [of 
Mankind]  ?  be  fortified  againft  every  thing  that 
oppofes  it  {e)  ? 

Who  denies  that  ?  But  it  mufl  be  done  by  him 
who  hath  Abilities ;  who  hath  Licifure  :  but  he, 
who  is  full  of  Trembling  and  Perturbation,  and  in- 
ward Diforders  of  Heart,  mufl  employ  his  Time 
about  fomething  elfe. 

CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

That  we  are  not  to  he  angry  with  Mankind.     What 
'Things  are  little^  what  great ^  among  Men. 

§.  I.  XT  THAT  is  the  Caufe  of  AlTent  to  any 
W    thing? 
Its  appearing  to  be  true. 

It  is  not  poiiible,  therefore,  to  aflent  to  what  ap- 
pears to  be  not  true. 
Why  ? 

Becaufe  it  is  the  very  Nature  of  the  Underfland- 
ing  to  agree  to   Truth  ;    to  be  dilTatisfied  with 

Fal- 

(e)  This  feems  to  be  fald  by  one  of  the  Hearers,  who  want- 
ed to  have  the  Abfurdities  of  the  Sceptics  confuted,  and  guard- 
ed againft,  by  regular  Argument.  Epi£ietus  allows  this  to  be 
right,  for  fuch  as  have  Abilities  and  Leifure :  but  recommends 
to  others,  the  more  neceffary  Taflc,  of  curing  their  own  moral 
Diforders  :  and  infinuales,  that  the  mere  common  Occurrences 
of  Life  are  fufficient  to  overthrow  the  Notions  of  the  Pyrrhonip, 


Chap.  28.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  81 

Falfhoodj  and  to  fufpeiid  its  Belief,   in  doubtful 
Cafes. 

What  is  the  Proof  of  this  ? 
Perfuade  yourfelf,  if  you  can,  that  it  is  now  Night. 
Impofiible. 

Unperiuade  yourlelf  that  it  is  Day. 
ImpoiTible. 

Perfuade  yourfelf,  that  the  Stars  are,  or  are  not, 
even. 

Impofiible. 

§.2.  When  any  one,  then,  aflents  to  what  is 
falfe,  be  alTured,  that  he  doth  not  wilfully  alfent  to 
it,  as  falfe  (for,  as  Plato  affirms,  the  Soul  is  never 
voluntarily  deprived  of  Truth) :  but  what  is  falfe, 
appears  to  him  to  be  true.  Well,  then  :  Have  we, 
in  Adions,  any  thing  correfpondent  to  True  and 
Falfe,  in  Propofitions .? 

Duty,  and  contrary  to  Duty  :  Advantageous,  and 
Difadvantageous  :  Suitable  and  Unfuitable  j  and 
the  like. 

A  Perfon  then,  cannot  think  a  Thing  advantage- 
ous to  him,  and  not  chufe  it. 

He  cannot.     But  how  fays  Medea  ? 
"  I  know  what  Evils  wait  my  dreadful  Purpofe ; 
"  But  vanqU'Jb'dReafon  yields  to  powerful  Rage. '^ 
Becaufe  Ihe  thought,  that  very  Indulgence  of  her 
Rage,  and  the  punilliing  her  Hufband,  more  ad- 
vantageous than  the  Prefervation  of  her  Children. 
5fes  :  but  fhe  is  deceived. 

Shew  clearly  to  her,  that  fhe   is  deceived,  and 
fhe  v/ill  forbear  :  but,  till  you  have  fhewn  it,  what 
is  fhe  to  follow,  but  what  appears  to  herfelf .? 
Nothing. 

Why,  then,  are   you  angry  {a)   with  her,  that 
the  unhappy  Woman  is  deceived,  in  the  moll  im- 
portant Points ;  and  inftead  of  a  human  Creature, 
,  becomes   a  Viper  ?  Why  do  not  you  rather,  as  we 
pity  the  Blind  and  Lame,  fo  likev/ife  pity  thofe  who 

G  sre 

(a)  See  Note  ^,  c,  x8.  §.  i. 


82  fhe  T> I  SCO V  Vi^zs  of         Bookl, 

are  blinded  and  lamed,  in  their  fuperior  Faculties  ? 
Whoever,  therefore,  duly  remembers,  that  the 
Appearance  of  Things  to  the  Mind  is  the  Standard 
of  every  Adtion  to  Man  :  that  this  is  either  right 
or  wrong  :  and,  if  right,  he  is  without  Fault ;  if 
wrong,  he  himfelf  bears  the  Punifliment :  for  that 
one  Man  cannot  be  the  Perfon  deceived,  and  ano- 
ther the  Sufferer  :  will  not  be  outrageous  and  an- 
gry at  any  one ;  will  not  revile,  or  reproach,  or 
hate,  quarrel  with,  any  one. 

§.3.  So  then.  Have  all  the  great  and  dreadful 
Deeds,  that  have  been  done  in  the  World,  no  o- 
ther  Original  than  Appearance  ? 

Abfolutely,  no  other.  The  Iliad  confifls  of  no- 
thing but  the  Appearances  [of  Things  to  the  Mind]  ; 
and  the  Ufe  of  thofc  Appearances.  It  appeared 
[right]  to  Paris ^  to  carry  off  the  Wife  o^  Menelaus, 
It  appeared  [right]  to  Helen^  to  follow  him.  If,  then, 
it  had  appeared  [right]  to  Menelatis^  to  perfuade 
himfelf,  that  it  was  an  Advantage  to  be  robbed  of 
fuch  a  Wife,  what  would  have  happened  ?  Not 
only  the  Iliad  had  been  lofl,  but  the  OdyJJey  too. 

Do  thefe  great  Events  then,  depend  on  fo  fmall 
a  Cauie  ? 

What  are  thefe  Events,  which  you  call  great  P 

Wars,  and  Seditions ;  the  Deftruftion  of  Num- 
bers of  Men  ;  and  the  Overthrow  of  Cities. 

And  what  great  Matter  is  there  in  all  this  ?  No- 
thing. What  great  Matter  is  there  in  the  Death  oS. 
Numbers  of  Oxen,  Numbers  of  Sheep,  or  in  the 
burning  or  pulling  down  Numbers  of  Nells  of  Storks 
or  Swallows } 

Are  thefe  like  Cafes,  then  } 

Perfectly  like.   The  Bodies  of  Men  are  deflroyed^ 
and  the  Bodies  of  Sheep  and  Oxen.   The  Houfes  of 
Men  are  burnt,  and  the  Nefts  of  Storks.    What  is 
there  great  or  dreadful  in  all  this  ?  Pray,  Ihew  nidi 
what  Difference  there  is  between  the  Houfe  of  ^ 
Man,  and  the  Neft  of  a  Stork,  fo  far  as  it  is  a  Ha- 
bitation 


Chap.  zS,        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  B3 

bitation  (^^,  excepting  that  Houfes  are  built  with 
Beams,  and  Tiles,  and  Bricks;  and  Nefts,  with 
Sticks  and  Clay  ? 

What,  then,  is  a  Stork  and  a  Man  a  like  Thing } 
What  do  you  mean  } 

W^ith  regard  to  Body,  extremely  like. 

Is  there  no  Difference,  dien,  between  a  Man  and 
a  Stork? 

Yes,  furely  :  but  not  in  thefe  Things. 

In  what  then  ? 

Enquire  ;  and  you  will  find,  that  the  Difference 
confifls  in  fomething  elfe.  See  whether  it  be  not,  in 
ading  with  Difcernment :  whether  it  be  not,  in  a 
focial  Difpofition  ;  in  Fidelity,  Honour,  Steadinefs, 
Judgment. 

§.4.  Where  then,  is  the. great  Good  or  Evil  of 
Man  ? 

Where  his  Difference  is.  If  this  is  preferved,  and 
remains  well  fortified,  and  neither  Honour,  Fideli- 
ty, or  Judgment,  is  deflroyed,  then  he  himfelf  is 
preferved  likewife  :  but,  when  any  of  thefe  is  loft 
and  demolifhed,  he  himfelf  is  lofl  alfo.  In  diisdo 
all  great  Events  confift.  Paris^  they  fay,  was  un* 
done,  becaufe  the  Greeks  invaded  Troy^  and  laid  it 
wafte  V  and  his  Family  were  (lain  in  Batde.  By  no 
means :  for  no  one  is  undone  by  an  Adion,  not  his 
own.  All  that  was  only  laying  wafle  the  Nefts  of 
Storks.  But  his  true  Undoing  was,  when  he  loft 
the  modeft,  the  faithful,  the  hofpitable,  and  the  de- 
cent Charader.  When  was  Jchilles  undone  ? 
When  Patroclus  died  }  By  no  means.  But  when 
he  gave  himfelf  up  to  Rage  ;  when  he  wept  over  a 
Girl ;  when  he  forgot,  that  he  came  there,  not  to 
get  Miftreffes,  but  to  fight.  This  is  human  Undo- 
ing ;  this  is  the  Siege ;  this  the  Overthrow  ;  whea 
right  Principles  are  ruined  j  when  thefe  are  deftroyed. 
But,  when  Wives  and  Children  are  led  away 
G  2  Cap- 

(h)  The  Order  of  the  following  Words  is  difturbed  in  the 
Original.    The  Tranflatloa  follows  Mr,  Uptons Corre^Jon. 


84  ^^^  Discourses  of         Book  I. 

Captives,  and  the  Men  themfelves  killed,  are  not 
thefe,  Evils  ? 

Whence  do  you  conclude  them  fuch  ?  Pray  in- 
form me,  in  my  Turn. 

Nay  :  but  whence  do  you  affirm,  that  they  are 
not  Evils  ? 

§.  5.  Let  us  recur  to  the  Rules.  Produce  the  Pre- 
conceptions. One  cannot  fuffidently  wonder  at  what 
happens,  in  this  Refped.  When  we  would  judge  of 
Light  and  Heavy,  we  do  not  judge  by  Guefs :  when 
of  Strait  and  Crooked,  not  by  Guefs :  and,  in  ge- 
neral, when  it  concerns  us  to  know  the  Truth  of 
any  Particular,  no  one  of  us  will  do  any  thing,  by 
Guefs,  But,  where  the  firll  and  principal  Caufe  is 
concerned,  of  adling  either  right  or  wrong;  of  be- 
ing profperous  or  unprofperous,  happy  or  unhappy  -, 
there  only  do  we  ad  rafhly,  and  by  Guefs.  No- 
where any  thing  like  a  Balance  ;  no-where  any  thing 
like  a  Rule  :  but  fome  Fancy  llrikes  me,  and  I  in- 
llantly  adt  conformably  to  it.  For  am  I  better  than 
Agamemnon  or  Achilles ;  that  they,  by  following 
their  Fancies,  fhould  do  and  fuffer  fo  many  Things, 
and  Fancy  not  fuffice  me?  And  what  Tragedy  hath 
any  other  Original }  The  /Itreus  of  Euripides^  what 
is  it  ^  Fancy.  The  Oedipus  of  Sophocles  ?  Fancy. 
The  Phcsnix  ?  The  Hippolytus  ?  All  Fancy.  To 
what  Character,  then,  doth  it  belong,  think  you,' to 
take  no  care  of  this  Point }  What  are  they  called 
who  follov/  every  Fancy  ^ 

Madmen. 

Do  we^  then,  behave  any  other  wife  ? 

CHAPTER    XXIX. 

Of  hitrepidity. 

§«  I.  'T"'  HE  Effence  of  Good  and  Evil,  is  acer- 
X     tain  Difpofition  of  the  Choice. 
What  are  Externals,  then  ? 
Materials  to  the  Faculty  of  Choice  :   in  the  Ma- 
i>agement  of  which,  it  will  attain  its  own  Good  or  Evil. 

How, 


Chap.  2p.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  S5 

How,  then,  will  it  attain  Good  ? 

If  it  doth  not  admire  the  Materials  themfelves  : 
for  right  Principles,  concerning  thefe  Materials,  con- 
flitute  a  good  Choice :  but  perverfe  and  diflorted 
Principles,  a  bad  one.  This  Law  hath  God  or- 
dained, who  fays ;  "  If  you  wifh  for  Good,  receive 
*'  it  from  yourfelf '*  You  fay,  No  :  but  from  ano- 
ther.  "  Nay  ;  but  from  yourfelf '*    In  confe- 

quenceof  this,  when  a  Tyrant  threatens,  and  fends 
for  me ;  I  fay,  Againfl  what  is  your  Threatning 
pointed  ?  If  he  fays,  "  I  will  chain  you  ;"  I  anfwer. 
It  is  my  Hands  and  Feet  that  you  threaten.  If  he 
fays,  "  I  will  cut  off  your  Head;"  I  anfwer,  It  is 
.  my  Head  that  you  threaten.  If  he  fays,  "  I  will 
*'  throw  you  into  Prifon  •,'*  I  anfwer,  It  is  the 
Whole  of  this  paultry  Body  that  you  threaten  :  and, 
if  he  threatens  Banifhment,  juft  the  fame. 

Doth  not  he  threaten  you^  then  ? 

If  I  am  perfuaded,  that  thefe  Things  are  nothing 
to  me,  he  doth  not :  but,  if  I  fear  any  of  them,  it  is 
me  that  he  threatens.  Whom,  after  all,  is  it  that  I 
fear  ?  The  Mafler  of  what }  Of  Things  in  my 
own  Power .?  Of  thefe  no  one  is  the  Mailer.  Of 
Things  not  in  my  Power  ?  And  what  are  thefe  to  me  ? 

§.2.  What,  then  1  do  you  Philofophers  teach  us  a 
Contempt  of  Kings } 

By  no  means.  Who  of  us  teaches  any  one  to 
contend  with  them,  about  Things  of  which  they 
have  the  Command  ?  Take  my  Body  ;  take  my 
Poflfeflions  -,  take  my  Reputation  ;  take  thofe  who 
are  about  me.  If  I  perfuade  any  one  to  contend  for 
thefe  Things,  as  his  own,  accufe  me,  with  Jullice. 

"  Ay  :   but  I  would  command  your  Principles 

*'too.*' And  who  hath  given  you  that  Power  .^ 

How  can  you  conquer  the  Principle  of  another  ? — 

By  applying  Terror,  I  will  conquer  it. Do  not 

you  lee,  that  {a)  what"  conquers  itfslf,  is  not  con- 

G  3  quered 

(a)  The  Senfe  of  this  FafTage  feems  to  require  that  the  firft 
«vTo  Ihould  be  read  o. 


S6  The  Discourses  (?/  Book  L 

qiieredby  another  ?  And  nothing  but  itfelf  can  con- 
quer the  Choice.  Hence,  too,  the  mod  excellent 
and  equitable  Law  of  God ;  that  the  Better  fhould 
always  prove  fuperior  to  the  Worfe.  Ten  are  bet- 
ter than  One. 

To  what  Purpofe  .? 

For  chaining,  killing,  dragging  where  they  pleaie; 
for  taking  away  an  Eftate.  1  hus  Ten  conquer  One, 
in  the  Inflance  wherein  they  are  better. 

In  what,  then,  are  they  worfe  ? 

When  the  one  hath  right  Principles^  and  the  o- 
thers  have  not.  For  can  they  conquer  in  this  Point  ? 
How  fhould  they  }  If  we  were  weighed  in  a  Scale, 
mufl  not  the  Heavier  outweigh  .? 

§.3.  That  ever  Socrates  (hould  fuffer  fuch  Things 
from  the  Athenians  ! 

Wretch!  what  do  you  mean  by  (b)  Socrates ^^ 
Exprefs  the  Fadl  as  it  is.  That  ever  the  poor  paul- 
try  Body  of  Socrates  fhould  be  carried  away,  and 
dragged  to  Frifbn,  by  fuch  as  were  flronger  [than 
itfelf]  :  that  ever  any  one  fhould  give  Hemlock  to 
the  Body  of  Socrates  %  and  that  it  fhould  expire  1  Do 
thefe  Things  appear  wonderful  to  you  ^  'Tbefe 
Things  unjuft }  Is  it  for  fuch  Things  as  tbeje  that 
you  accufe  God  }  Had  Socrates^  then,  no  Equiva- 
lent for  them  P  In  what,  then,  to  him,  did  the  Ef- 
fence  of  Good  confift  ?  Whom  (hall  we  mind ;  you, 
or  him .?  And  what  doth  he  fay  ?  '^  Anytus  and  Melt- 
"  tus  {c)  may  indeed  kill ;  but  hurt  me  they  can« 
^^  not."  And  again  :  "  If  it  fo  pleafes  God,  fo  let 
"  it  be.'* 

§•4. 

(b)  Socrates,  being  afked  by  Crtto,  in  what  manner  lie  would 
be  buried  ^  anfwered.  As  you  pieafe  ;  if  you  can  lay  hold  on 
me,  and  I  do  not  efcape  from  you.  Then,  fmiling,  and  turn- 
ing to  his  Friends,  I  cannot,  fays  he,  perfuade  Crito,  that  I, 
who  am  now  difputing,  and  ranging  the  Parts  of  my  Difcourfe, 
am  Socrates :  but  he  thinks  the  Corpfe,  which  he  will  foon  be- 
hold,  to  heme;  and,  therefore,  afks  how  he  mufl  bury  me. 
Plato,  in? had.  §.64.  ForsterV  Edition, 
(c)  The  two  principal  Accufers  of  Socrates. 


Chap.  29.      E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  Sy 

§.  4.  But  fhew  me,  that  he  who  hath  the  worfe 
Principles,  gets  the  Advantage  over  him,  who  hath 
the  better.  You  never  will  Ihew  it,  nor  any  thing 
like  it :  for  the  Law  of  Nature  and  of  God,  is  this^ 
Let  the  Better  be  always  fuperior  to  the  Worfe. 

In  what  ? 

In  that,  wherein  it  is  better.  One  Body  is  flrong- 
cr  than  another:  Many  than  One;  and  a  Thief, 
than  one  who  is  not  a  Thief  Thus  I,  too,  loft  my 
Lamp;  becaufe  the  Thief  was  better  at  keeping 
awake,  than  I.  But  he  bought  a  Lamp,  at  the 
Price  of  being  a  Thief,  a  Rogue,  and  a  wild  Beaft. 
This  feemed  to  him  a  good  Bargain :  and  much 
Good  may  it  do  him ! 

§.  5.  Well :  but  one  takes  me  by  the  Coat,  and 
draws  me  to  the  Forum  *,  an.d  then  all  the  reft  bawl 

out-^- "  Philofopher,  what  Good  do  your  i?n«- 

**  ciples  do  you  ?    See,  you  are  dragging  to  Prifon : 

*'  fee,  you  are  going  to  lofe  your  Head  T* 

And,  pray  what  Rule  of  Philofbphy  could  I  contrive, 
that,  when  a  ftronger  than  myfelf  lays  hold  on  my 
Coat,  I  ftiould  not  be  dragged?  Or  that,  when 
ten  Men  pull  me  at  once,  and  throw  me  into  Prifon, 
I  ftiould  not  be  thrown  there  ?  But  have  I  learnt 
nothing,  then  ?  I  have  learnt  to  know,  whatever 
happens,  that,  if  it  is  not  a  Matter  of  Choice,  it  is 
nothing  to  me.  Have  my  Principles,  then,  done 
me  no  Good  (d)  ?  What,  then !  do  I  feek  for  any 
thing  elfe  to  do  me  Good,  but  what  I  have  learnt  ? 
Afterwards,  as  I  fit  in  Prifon,  I  fay  :  He,  who 
makes  this  Outcry,  neither  hears  what  Signal  is 
G  4  given, 

(d)  This  is  evidently  a  Continuation  of  the  Philofopher's 
Anfwer  to  thofe  who  reproached  him,  that  his  Principles  had 
done  him  no  Good  j  and,  therefore,  istranflated  in  the  firft  Per- 
fon,  though  it  is  uphnaui  and  fr.rn?  in  the  Greek,  This  fudden 
Change  of  the  Perfon,  is  very  frequent  in  Epi^etus ;  but  would 
often  dlfturb  the  Senfe,  if  it  was  preferved  in  a  Tranflation. 
Perhaps  u<ptKnffu\,  is  a  Miftake,  for  4>^£^.•«fA«^  j  as  M,  £  arc  the  fame 
Letters  ditfcrently  turned. 


8S  The  Discourses  of         Book  I. 

given,  nor  underflands  what  is  faid ;  nor  is  it  any 
G^ncern  to  him,  to  know  what  Philofophers  fay,  or 

do.     Let  him  alone. [Well :   but  1  am  bid]  to 

come  out  of  Prilbn  again. If  you  have  no  fur- 
ther Need  for  me,  in  Prifbn,  I  will  come  out :  if  you 
want  me  again,  I  will  return. — — "  For  how  long 

''  [will  you  go  on  thus.?*]" ^Jufl  as  long  as  {e) 

Reafon  requires  I  Ihould  continue  in  this  pauhry 
Body  :  when  that  is  over,  take  it,  and  fare  ye  well. 
Only  let  not  this  be  done  inconfiderately  ;  nor  from, 
Cowardice ;  nor  upon  every  flight  Pretence :  for 
that,  again,  would  be  contrary  to  the  Will  of 
God  :  for  he  hath  Need  of  fuch  a  World,  and  fuch 
[Creatures]  to  live  on  Earth.  But,  if  he  founds  a 
Retreat,  as  he  did  to  Socrates^  we  are  to  obey  him, 
when  he  founds  it,  as  our  General. 

§.  6.  Well :  but  are  thefe  Things  to  be  faid  to 
the  World.? 

For  what  Purpofe  ?  Is  it  not  fufficient  to  be  con- 
vinced one's  felf.?  When  Children  come  to  us, 
clapping  their  Hands,  and  faying ;  "  To-morrow 
is  the  good  Feafl:  o^  Saturn  :^^  do  we  tell  them,  that 
Good  doth  not  confifl  in  fuch  Things  i*  By  no  means : 
but  we  clap  our  Hands  along  with  them.  Thus, 
when  you  are  unable  to  convince  any  one,  confider 
him  as  a  Child,  and  clap  your  Hands  with  him  :  or, 
if  you  will  not  do  that,  at  leaft  hold  your  Tongue. 
Thefe  Things  we  ought  to  remember;  and, 
when  we  are  called  to  any  Difficulty,  know, 
that  an  Opportunity  is  come,  of  fhewing  whe- 
ther 


(e)  Tfte  Meaning  of  EpiBetus  in  this  PaiTage  is  not  clear. 
It  he  is  rpcaking  of  a  voluntary  Death,  which  fome  of  his  Ex- 
prefiions  pfainiy  impJy,  the  Inihnce  of  Socrates  feems  impro- 
perly chofen  :  for  he  did  not  kill  himfelf ;  but  was  fentenced 
by  the  Laws  of  his  Country :  to  which,  indeed,  he  paid  fo 
great  a  Reverence,  as  to  refttfe  all  the  Afliftance  which  was  of- 
fered by  his  Friends,  in  order  to  his  Efcape. 


Chap.  29.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  89 

whether  we  have  been  well  taught.  For  he  who 
goes  from  a  philofophical  Ledture  to  a  difficult  Point 
of  Pradice,  is  like  a  young  Man  who  has  been  flu- 
dying  to  folve  Syilogifms.  if  you  propofe  an  eafy 
one,  he  fays  ;  Give  me  rather  a  fine  intricate  one, 
that  I  may  try  my  Strength.  Even  athletic  Cham- 
pions are  difpleafed  with  a  flight  Antagonifl.  He 
cannot  lift  me,  fays  one.  This  is  a  Youth  of  Spi- 
rit. No  :  but,  I  v/arrant  you,  when  the  Occafioa 
calls  upon  him,  he  mufl  fall  a  crying,  and  fay  ♦, 
"  I  wanted  to  learn  a  httle  longer  firfl." — Learn 
what  ?  If  you  did  not  learn  thefe  Things  to  ihew 
them  In  Pradice,  why  did  you  learn  them  at  all  ? 
I  am  perfliaded  there  mufl  be  fome  one  among  you 
who  fit  here,  that  feels  fecret  Pangs  of  Impatience, ' 
and  fays ;  "  When  will  fuch  a  Difficulty  come  to 
*''  my  Share,  as  hath  now  fallen  to  his  ?  Muil  I  fit 
"  wafling  my  Life  in  a  Corner,  when  I  might  be 
"  crowned  at  Olympia  f  When  will  any  one  bring  the 
*'  News  of  fuch  a  Combat,  for  me  /"'  Such  fhould 
be  the  Difpofition  of  you  all.  Even  among  the 
Gladiators  of  C^far^  there  are  fome  who  bear  it  ve- 
ry ill,  that  they  are  not  brought  upon  the  Stage, 
and  match'd  ;  and  who  ofter  Vows  to  God,  and  ad- 
drefs  the  Officers,  begging  to  fight.  And  will  none 
among  you^  appear  fuch  ?  I  would  willingly  take  a 
Voyage,  on  purpofe  to  fee  how  a  Champion  of  mine 
a6ls  ;  how  he  treats  his  Subjedl. — "  I  do  not  chufe 
'*  fuch  a  Subjed,"  fay  you. — Is  it  in  your  Power, 
then,  to  take  what  Subject  you  chufe  ?  Such  a  Bo- 
dy  is  given  you ;  fuch  Parents,  fuch  Brothers,  fuch 
a  Country,  and  fuch  a  Rank  in  it ;  and,  then,  you 
come  to  me,  and  fay,  "  Change  my  Subjed."  Ee- 
fides,  have  not  you  Abilities  to  manage  that  which 
is  given  you  ?  It  is  your  Bufinefs,  [we  fliould  fay] 
to  propofe ;  mine,  to  treat  the  Subject  well. — ''  No. 
"  But  do  not  propofe  fuch  an  Argument  to  me ; 
*'  but/wrZ;  a  one  :  do  not  offer  ywri?  an  Objedtioa 
^  to  mci  hiwftich  a  one.'* — There  will  be  a  Time, 

1  fup. 


90  The  Discourses  of       Book  I. 

I  (uppofe,  when  Tragedians  will  fancy  themfelves 
to  be  mere  Mafks,  and  Buflvins,  and  long  Train. 
Thefe  Things  are  your  Materials,  Man,  and  your 
Subjedl.  Speak  fomething  ;  that  we  may  know, 
whether  you  are  a  Tragedian,  or  a  Buffoon  :  for 
both  have  all  the  red,  in  common.  If  any  one, 
therefore,  ihould  take  away  his  Bufkins,  and  his 
Mafk,  and  bring  him  upon  the  Stage,  in  his  (f) 
common  Drefs,  is  the  Tragedian  loit,  or  doth  he 
remain  ?  If  he  hath  a  voice,  he  remains.  "  Here, 
^'  this  Inftant,  take  upon  you  the  Command."  I 
take  it  v  and,  taking  ir,  I  llicw  how  a  Perfon,  who 

hath  been  properly  in{lru(5led,  behaves. "  Lay 

*"  afide  your  Robe  ;  put  on  Rags,  and  come  upon 
''  the  Stage  in  that  Charader." — What  then .?  Is  it 
not  in  my  Power  to  bring  a  good  Voice  [and  Man- 
ner] along  with  me  ? — ■ — "  In  v/hat  Charader  do 
**  you  now  appear  ?"    As  a  (^)  Witnefs  cited  by 

God. ''  Come  you,  then,  and  bear  witnefs  for 

*'  me  i  for  you  are  a  Witnefs  worthy  of  being  pro- 
*'  duced  by  me.  Is  any  thing,  external  to  the 
**  Choice,  either  Good  or  Evil  ?  Do  I  hurt  any 
*'  one  ?  Have  I  placed  the  Good  of  each  individual 
*'  in  any  one,  but  in  himfelf  ?  What  Evidence  do 
**  you  give  for  God  ?'*— /  am  in  a  mijerable  ConditioHy 
O  Lord  (b)  '^  I  am  undone  :  no  Mortal  cares  for 
me  :  no  Mortal  gives  me  any  thing  :  all  blame  me  \ 

all 

(f)  ^ittvo^yj.  Lord  Shaftesbury. 

(gj  This  imaginary  Witnefs,  firfl:  extolled,  then  failing  in 
fcis  Teftimony,  brings  to  one's  Mind  with  unfpeakable  Advan- 
tage, that  true  and  faithful  Wttnefsy  who  hath  fo  fully  attefted 
the  far  more  important  Doctrines  of  Pardon,  Grace,  and  ever- 
iafting  Life  :  and  taught  Men,  on  this  Foundation,  not  to  hi 
afraid  of  them  that  kill  the  Body  ;  and^  after  that,  ha've  no  more 
that  they  can  do. 

(h)  It  hath  been  obferved,  that  this  manner  of  Expreffion  is 
not  to  be  met  with  in  the  Heathen  Authors  before  Chriftianity  : 
and,  therefore,  it  is  one  Inftance  of  Scripture  Language  coming 
cariy  i.ito  common  Ufe. 


Chap.  29.      E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  91 

all /peak  ill  of  me. — Is  this  the  Evidence  you  are  to 
give  ?  And  will  you  bring  Difgrace  upon  his  Cita- 
tion, who  hath  conferred  fuch  an  Honour  upon  you, 
and  thought  you  worthy  of  being  produced  as  a 
Witnefs  in  fiich  a  Caufe? 

§.  7,  But  he  who  hath  the  Power,  hath  given 
Sentence,  *'  I  judge  you  to  be  impious  and  profane,** 
— What  hath  befallen  you  ?-^I  have  been  judged 
to  be  impious  and  profane — Any  thing  elfe  ? — No- 
thing.— Suppofe  he  had  pafs'd  his  Judgment  upon 
an  hypothetical  Propofition,  and  pronounced  it  to 
be  a  falfe  Conclufion,  that,  if  it  be  Day,  it  is  light ; 
what  would  have  befallen  the  Propofition  ?  In  this 
Cafe,  who  is  judged;  who  condemned;  the  Propo- 
fition, or  he  who  is  deceived,  concerning  it  T  Doth 
he,  who  hath  the  Power  of  pronouncing  any  thing, 
concerning  you,  know,  what  Pious,  or  Impious, 
mean  ?  Hath  he  made  it  his  Study,  or  learned  it  ? 
Where  ?  From  whom  ?  A  Mufician  would  not  re- 
gard him,  if  he  pronounced  Bafs  to  be  Treble  :  nor 
a  Mathematician,  if  he  pafs'd  Sentence,  that  Lines 
drawn  from  the  Center  to  the  Circle,  are  not  equal 
And  fhall  He,  who  is  truly  learned,  regard  an  un- 
learned Man,  when  he  pronounces  upon  Pious  and 
Impious,  Jufl  and  Unjufl  ? 

§.  8.  "  Oh  the  Injuries  to  which  the  Learned  are 
expofed  I"  Is  it  here  that  you  have  learn'd  this  ^ 
W^hy  do  not  you  leave  fuch  pitiful  Realbnings  to 
idle  pitiful  Fellows  (/) ;  and  let  them  fit  in  a  Cor- 
ner, and  receive  fome  little  forry  Pay  ;  or  grumble, 
that  nobody  gives  them  any  thing  ?  But  do  you  ap- 
pear, and  make  life  of  what  you  have  learn'd.  It  is 
not  Reafonings  that  are  wanted  now.  On  the  con- 
trary. Books  are  (luffed  full  of  Stoical  Reafonings. 
■  What  is  wanted,  then  } 

One  to  apply  them;  whofe  Anions  may  bear 
Teflimony  to. his  Do(5trines.     AfTume  me  this  Cha- 

rader, 

{i)  The  meccensry  ProfeiTors  of  Philofophy,  at  that  time. 


9^  The  Discourses  of        Book  I.-. 

rader,  that  we  may  no  longer  make  ufe  of  the  Ex- 
jtipples  of  the  Ancients,  in  the  Schools ;  but  may 
have  fome  Example  of  our  own. 

§.  9.  To  whom,  then,  doth  the  Contemplation 
of  thefe  [fpeculative  Reafonings]  belong  ? 

To  him,  that  hath  Leifure.  For  Man  is  an  Ani- 
mal fond  of  Contem.plation.  But  it  is  fhameful  to 
take  a  View  of  thefe  Things,  as  nm-away  Slaves  do 
of  a  Play  We  are  to  fit  quietly,  and  liilen,  fome- 
times  to  the  Ador,  and  fometimes  to  the  Mufician : 
and  not  do  like  thofe,  who  come  in  and  praife  the 
Ador,  and  at  the  fame  time  look  round  them  every 
Way  :  then,  if  any  one  happens  to  name  their  Ma- 
fcer,  are  frighted  out 'of  their  Wits,  and  run  off. 
It  is  fhameful  for  a  Philoibpher,  thus  to  contemplate 
the  Works  of  Nature.  Now,  what,  in  this  Cafe, 
is  the  Mailer  ?  Man  is  not  the  Mafler  of  Man  ; 
but  Death,  and  Life,  and  Pleafure,  and  Pain  :  for 
^itlx)Ut  thefe,  bring  C^far  to  me,  and  you  will  fee 
]iow  intrepid  I  fhall  be.  But,  if  he  comes  thunder- 
ing and  lightening  with  thefe ;  and  thefe  are  the  Ob- 
jects of  my  Terror ;  what  do  I  elfe,  but,  like  the 
run-away  Slave,  acknowledge  my  Mafler  ?  While  I 
have  any  Refpite  from  thefe,  as  the  Fugitive  comes 
into  the  Theatre,  fo  I  bathe,  drink,  fmg ;  but  all, 
with  Terror  and  Anxiety.  But,  if  I  free  myfelf 
from  my  Maflers,  that  is,  from  fuch  Things  as  ren- 
der a  Mafler  terrible,  what  Trouble,  what  Mafler 
have  I  remaining  ? 

§.  10.  What,  then,  are  we  to  publifh  thefe 
Things  to  all  Men  .? 

No.  But  humour  the  Vulgar,  and  fay ;  This 
poor  Man  advifes  me  to  what  he  thinks  good  for 
himfelf.  I  excufe  him  :  for  Socrates^  too,  excufed 
the  Jailer,  v/ho  wept  when  he  v/as  to  drink  the 
Poiion  :  and  faid,  "  How  heartily  he  (beds  Tears 
**  for  us.**  Was  it  to  him  that  Socrates  faid,  "  For 
"  this  Reafon  we  fent  the  WomiCn  out  of  the  Way  V* 
No  :  but  to  his  Friends  j  to  fuch,  as  were  capable  of 

hearing 


Chap.  30.      E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  93 

hearing  it  ;    while  he  humoured  the  other,    as  a 
Child. 

CHAPTER    XXX. 

JVhat  we  ought  to  have  ready ^  in  dificiilt  Circum'- 
fiances. 

WHEN  you  are  going  to  any  of  the  Great  re- 
member, that  there  is  Another,  who  fees 
from  Above,  what  pafles  \  and  whom  you  ought 
to  pleafe,  rather  than  Man.  He,  therefore,  afks 
you  : 

In  the  Schools,  what  did  you  ufe  to  call  Exile, 
and  Prifon,  and  Chains,  and  Death,  and  Defama- 
tion } 

I  ?  Indifferent  Things. 

What,  then,  do  you  call  them  now  ?  Are  they 
at  all  changed  ? 

No. 

Art  you  changed,  then  ? 

No. 

Tell  me,  then,  what  Things  are  indifferent. 

Things  independent  on  Choice, 

Tell  me  the  Confcquence  too. 

Things  independent  on  Choice,  are  nothing  to 
me. 

Tell  me,  likewife,  what  appeared  to  us,  to  be 
the  Good  of  Man. 

A  right  Choice,  and  a  [right]  Ufe  of  the  Ap- 
pearances of  Things. 

What  his  End } 

To  follow  Thee. 

Do  you  the  fame  Things  now^  too  ? 

Yes.     I  do  the  fame  Things,  even  now. 

Well,  go  in,  then,  boldly,  and  mindful  of  thefe 
Things ;  and  he  [to  whom  you  are  going]  will  fee, 
what  a  Youth,  who  hath  ftudied  what  he  ought,  is 
among  Men,  who  have  not.     I  proteil,  I  imagine 

you 


54  ^^^  D  I  s  c  o  u  R  s  E  s,  ^c.       Book  L 

you  will  have  fuch  Thoughts  as  thefe  :  ''  Why  do 
*'  we  provide  fo  many  and  great  Qualifications,  for 
«  nothing  ?  Is  the  Power,  the  Antechamber,  the 
*'  Attendants,  the  Guards,  no  more  than  this  ?  Is 
"  it  for  thefe,  that  I  have  Uften'd  to  fo  many  Dit 
*«  fertations  ?  Thefe  are  nothing  :  and  I  had  qua- 
«  lifted  myfelf  as  for  fome  great  Encounter." 


E  N  D^/  //^^  F I R  s  T  Book. 


THE 

DISCOURSES 

O  F 

I 

EPICTEtUS. 

BOOK     IL  ^ 


C  H  A  P  T  E  R    I. 

That  Courage  is  not  inconjljient  with  Cautkn. 

H  A  T  is  afferted  by  the  Philo- 
fophers  may,  perhaps,  appear 
a  Paradox  to  fbme  :  3et  us, 
however,  examine,  as  well  as 
^  we  can,  whether  this  be  true  j 
That  it  is  polTible  in  ail  Things, 
to  a6t  at  once  with  Caution  and  Courage.  For 
Caution  feems,  in  fome  meafure,  contrary  to  Cou- 
rage :  and  Contraries  are  by  no  means  conhilent. 

The 


g6  The  Discourses  of         Book  II. 

The  Appearance  of  a  Paradox  to  many,  in  the  pre- 
fentCafe,  feems  to  me  to  arife  from  fomething  like 
this  :  If,  indeed,  we  aflert,  that  Courage  and  Cau- 
tion are  to  be  ufed,  in  the  fame  Inllances,  we 
Ihould  juflly  be  accufed  of  uniting  Contradidions  : 
but,  in  the  Way  that  we  affirm  it,  where  is  the 
Abfurdity  ?  For,  if  what  hath  been  fo  often  faid, 
and  fo  often  demonflrated,  be  certain,  that  the 
EfTence  of  Good  and  Evil  confifls  in  the  Ufe  of  the 
Appearances  ;  and  that  Things  independent  on 
Choice,  are  not  of  the  Nature  either  of  Good  or 
Evil ;  what  Paradox  do  the  Philofophers  aflert,  if 
they  fay  :  *'  Where  Things  are  not  dependent  on 
*'  Choice,  be  courageous  :  where  they  are,  be 
"  cautious  ?"  For  in  thefe  only,  if  Evil  confifls  in 
a  bad  Choice,  is  Caution  to  be  ufed.  And  if 
Things  independent  on  Choice,  and  n©t  in  our 
Power,  are  nothing  to  us,  in  thefe  we  are  to  make 
ufe  of  Courage.  Thus  we  fhall  be  at  once  cautious 
and  courageous  :  and,  indeed,  courageous  on  the 
Account  of  this  very  Caution ;  for  by  ufing  Caution 
with  regard  to  things  really  evil,  we  fhall  gain  Cou- 
rage, with  regard  to  what  are  not  fo. 

§.  2.  But  we  are  in  the  fame  Condition  as  [hunt- 
ed] Deer  :  when  thefe,  in  a  Fright,  fly  from  the 
Feathers  (a)^  where  do  they  turn,  and  to  what  do 
they  retire  for  Safety  ?  To  the  Toils  And  thus 
they  are  undone,  by  inverting  the  Obje&  of  Fear 
and  Confidence.  Thus  we,  too.  In  what  Inftan- 
ces  do  we  make  ufe  of  Fear  P  In  Things  indepen- 
dent on  Choice.  In  what,  on  the  other  hand,  do 
we  behave  with  Courage,  as  if  there  were  nothing 
to  be  dreaded  ?  In  Things  dependent  on  Choice. 
To  be  deceived  then,  or  to  ad  rafhly  or  impudent- 
ly, or  to  indulge  an  ignominious  Defire,  is  of  no 

Importance 

(a)  This  was  a  Kind  of  Scare-crow,  formed  of  different  co- 
loured Feathers,  by  which  the  Animal  was  terrified,  and  fo 
driven  into  the  Net  ;  which  was  the  ancient  Manner  of  Hunt- 
ing. 


Chap.  r.         E  P  1  C  T  E  T  U  S.  97 

Importance  to  us,  if  we  do  but  take  a  good  Aim, 
in  Things  independent  on  Choice.  But  where 
Death,  or  Exile,  or  Pain,  or  Ignominy,  are  con- 
cerned, there  is  the  Retreat,  there,  the  Flutter  and 
Frigb.t.  Hence,  as  it  muft  be  with  thofe  who  err 
in  Matters  of  the  greatefl  Importance,  what  is  na- 
turally Courage,  we  render  bold,  defperate,  rafh, 
and  impudent  :  and  what  is  naturally  Caution, 
timid  and  bafe,  and  full  of  Fears  and  Perturbations. 
For  if  a  Per  Ton  was  to  transfer  Caution  to  Choice, 
and  the  Adions  of  Choice,  by  a  VVillingnefs  to  be 
cautious,  he  will,  at  the  fame  time,  have  it  in  his 
Power  to  avoid  [what  he  guards  againfl :]  but  if  he 
transfers  it  to  Things  not  in  our  Power,  or  Choice, 
by  fixing  his  Averfion  on  what  is  not  in  our  own 
Power,  but  dependent  on  others,  he  will  neceffarily 
fear ;  he  will  be  hurried  ;  will  be  diflurbed.  For 
it  is  not  Deaths  or  Pain,  that  is  to  be  feared  ;  but 
the  Fear  of  Pain,  or  Death.  Hence  we  commend 
him  who  fays : 

Death  is  no  Uly  hut  fliamefully  to  did. 

Courage,  then,  ought  to  be  oppofed  to  Death, 
and  Caution  to  the  Fear  of  Death  :  whereas  we^  on 
the  contrary,  oppofe  to  Death,  Flight ;  and  to  our 
Principle  concerning  it,  Careleffnefs,  and  Defpe- 
ratenefs,  and  Indifference. 

§.  3.  Socrates  ufed,  very  properly,  to  call  thefe 
Things  Vizards  :  for,  as  Mafks  appear  fhocking 
and  formidable  to  Children,  from  their  Inexperi- 
ence ;  we  are  affedled  in  like  manner,  with  regard 
to  Things,  for  no  other  Reafon,  than  as  Children 
are,  with  regard  to  Vizards.  For  what  is  a  Child  .? 
Ignorance.  What  is  a  Child  .?  Vv^ant  of  Learning  : 
for,  fo  far  as  the  Knowledge  of  Children  extends, 
they  are  not  inferior  to  us.  What  is  Death  }  A 
Vizard.  Turn  it,  and  be  convinced.  See,  it  doth 
not  bite.  This  little  body  and  Spirit  mult  be  fepa- 
H  rated 


pS  .  ^be  Discourses^/  Book  II. 

rated  (as  they  formerly  were)  either  now,  or  here- 
after :  why,  then,  are  you  difpleafed  if  it  be  now  ? 
For  if  not  now^  it  will  be  hereafter.  Why  ?  To 
complete  the  Revolution  of  the  World :  for  that 
hath  need  of  fome  Things  prefent,  others  to  come, 
and  others  already  completed.  What  is  Pain  P 
A  Vizard.     Turn  it,  and  be  convinced. 

This  paultry  Flefh  is  Ibmetimes  affected  by  harfh, 
fbmetimes  by  fmooth  Imprellions.  If  fuffering  be 
not  worth  your  while,  the  Door  is  open  ;  if  it  be, 
bear  it :  for  it  was  fit  the  Door  fhould  be  open, 
againft  all  Accidents.  And  thus  we  have  no  Trou- 
ble. 

§.  4.  What,  then,  is  the  Fruit  of  thefe  Princi- 
ples .?'What  it  ought  to  be  •,  the  mofl  noble,  and  the 
moft  becoming  the  Truly  Educated  (^),  Tranquil- 
lity, Security,  Freedom.  For  in  this  Cafe,  we  are 
not  to  give  Credit  to  the  Many,  who  fay,  that  none 
ought  to  be  educated  but  the  Free  •,  but  rather  to 
the  Philofophers,  who  fay,  that  the  Well-educated 
alone  are  free. 

How  fo  } 

Thus  :  Is  Freedom  any  thifig  elfe.  than  the  Pow- 
er of  Living  as  we  like  ? 

Nothing  elfe. 

Well :  tell  me  then,  do  you  like  to  live  in  Er- 
ror ? 

We 

(h)  Uaihioi,,  in  Greek,  means  nearly  the  fame  Thing,  as  what 
we  now  call  liberal  Education,  It  was  that  Sort  of  Education 
pecuh'ar  to  Gentlemen  ;  that  is,  fuch  as  were  free  ;  and  of 
which  the  Slaves,  or  lower  Sort  of  People,  were  forbid  to  par- 
take, according  to  the  Syftems  of  fome  Legiflators.  Such  (as 
well  as  I  can  remember)  was  the  Cafe  among  the  LacedemQniam^ 
and  amongft  the  ancient  Pirfiansy  till  the  Time  of  Cyrus, 

It  mud  be  obferved,  that  the  Words  Educated,  Free,  King, 
and  many  others,  were  taken  by  the  Stoics  from  common  Life  i 
and  by  them  applied  foiely  to  the  Charafter  of  their  wife,  and 
perfe<^  Man. 

The  Tranflator  is  obliged  for  this  Note,  as  well  as  for  many 
other  valuable  Hints,  to  Mr.  Harris  ;  fo  well  known  for  raa- 
ry  Works  of  Literature  and  Genius. 


Chap.  I.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  99 

We  do  not.  No  one,  fure,  that  lives  in  Error, 
(c)  is  free. 

Do  you  like  to  live  in  Fear  ^  Do  you  like  to  liv6 
in  Sorrow  ?  Do  you  like  to  live  in  Perturbation  ? 

By  no  means. 

No  one,  therefore,  in  a  State  of  Fear,  or  Sorrow, 
or  Perturbation,  is  free  :  but  whoever  is  delivered 
from  Sorrow,  Fear,  and  Perturbation,  by  the  fame 
means  is  delivered  likewife  from  Slavery.  How 
fhall  we  believe  you,  then,  good  Legiflators,  when 
you  fay ;  "  We  allow  none  to  be  educated,  but 
"-  the  Free  ^  For  the  Philofophers  fay ;  "  We 
"  allow  none  to  be  free,  but  the  Liberally-edu- 
^'  cated  :'*  that  is,  God  doth  not  allow  it. 

What,  then,  when  any  Perfbn  hath  turned  his 
Slave  (d)  about  before  the  Conful,  hath  he  done 
nothing  ? 

Yes,  he  hath. 

What .? 

He  hath  turned  his  Slave  about,  before  the  Con* 
ful. 

Nothing  more  ? 

Yes.     He  pays  a  (d)  Fine  for  him. 

Well  then  :  is  not  the  Man,  who  hath  gone 
through  this  Ceremony,  rendered  free  ^ 

No  more  than  [he  is  rendered]  exempt  from 
Perturbation.  Pray,  have  you,  who  are  able  to 
give  this  Freedom  to  others,  no  Mafler  of  your 
own  ^  Are  not  you  a  Slave  to  Money  ^  To  a  Girl .? 

Hz  To 

(c)  And  ye  Jhall  ino^v  the  ^ruth^  and  the  T^ ruth  Jh all  make  you 
free,  John  viii.  32.  This  is  one,  among  many  other  PafTages  to 
the  fame  Purpofe,  in  that  perje^  Lww  of  Liberty ,  the  New  Te» 
llament. 

{d)  When  a  Slave  was  to  be  prefented  with  his  Freedom,  he 
was  brought  before  the  Conful ;  and  his  Mafter,  taking  him  by 
the  Hand,  pronounced  a  certain  Form  of  Words,  and  then 
turned  the  Slave  about,  who  was  thus  rendered  free.  The  Fine 
which  the  Mafter  was  to  pay  on  this  OccaCon,  was  applied  to 
the  public  Ufe.     Upton, 


loo  ne  Discourses  of       Book  IIj 

To  a  Boy  ?  To  a  Tyrant  ?  To  fome  Friend  of  a 
Tyrant  ?  Elfe,  why  do  you  tremble  when  any  of 
thefe  is  in  queflion  ?  Therefore,  I  fo  often  repeat  to 
you,  Let  this  be  your  Study  ;  have  this  always  at 
hand  ;  in  what  it  is  neceffary  to  be  courageous,  and 
in  what  cautious:  courageous,  in  what  doth  not 
depend  on  Choice  ;  cautious,  in  what  doth. 

§.  5.  (e)  But  have  not  I  read  my  Papers  to  you? 
Do  not  you  know  what  I  am  doing  ? 

In  what? 

In  my  Ellays. 

Show  me  in  what  State  you  are,  as  to  Defire 
and  Averfion.  Whether  you  do  not  fail  of  what 
you  wifh,  and  incur  what  you  would  avoid :  but, 
as  to  thefe  common-place  Eflays,  if  you  are  wife, 
you  will  take  them,  and  obliterate  them. 

Why,  did  not  Socrates  write  ? 

Yes  :  who  (f)  fo  much  ?  But  how  ?  As  he  had 
not  always  one  at  hand,  to  argue  againft  his  Princi- 
ples, or  be  argued  againft  in  his  Turn,  he  argued 
with,  and  examined,  himfelf;  and  always  treated, 
at  leaft,  fome  one  natural  Notion,  in  a  manner  fit- 
ted for  the  Ufe  of  Life.  Thefe  are  the  Things 
which  a  Philofopher  writes  :  but  for  fuch  {g)  com- 

mon- 

(e)  This  feems  to  be  fpoken  by  one  of  the  Scholars. 

(f)  No  other  ancient  Author  mentions  Socratesy  as  having 
written  any  Thing,  except  a  Hymn  to  Apollo^  and  aTranflation 
pf  fome  Fables  oi  jEfop  into  Verfe.  Many  Authors  of  Credit 
affirm,  that  he  wrote  nothing.  Therefore  IVolfius  doubts,  whe- 
ther fome  other  Name  fhould  not  be  put  here,  inftead  oi Socrates. 
Yet  the  Defcription  moft  properly  belongs  to  him.  And,  per- 
haps, EpiSietus  doth  not  mean  to  intimate  here,  that  Socrates  had 
publiflied  any  thing  :  but  that  he  wrote,  when  he  had  no  Op- 
portunity of  difcourfing,  for  his  own  Improvement.  But  ftill, 
living  conftantly  at  Athens,  the  Seat  of  philofophicaJ  DIfputation, 
he  cannot  be  fuppofed,  often  to  have  had  that  Reafon  for  Writ- 
ing. 

(i)^^^  Original  here  feems  corrupt,  or  inaccurate.  I  hope 
the-Tranflation  is  not  far  from  the  true  Senfe. 


Chap.  I.        EPICTETUS.  lot 

mon-place  Eflays  as  thofe  I  am  (peaking  of,  he 
leaves  to  the  Infenfible,  or  to  the  happy  Creatures 
whom  Idlenefs  (^)  furnifhes  with  Lejfure  ;  or  to  fuch 
as  are  too  weak  to  regard  Confequences.  And  will 
you,  when  you  are  gone  from  hence  (/),  which  the 
Time  now  calls  for,  be  fond  of  fhowing,  and  read- 
ing, and  be  ridiculoufly  conceited,  of  theft  Things? 

Pray  fee,  how  I  compofe  Dialogues. 

Talk  not  of  that,  Man  ;  but  rather  be  able  to 
fay ;  See,  how  I  avoid  bein^  difappqinted  of  niy 
Defire  :  fee,  how  I  fecure  myfelf  againfl  incurring 
my  Averfion.  Set  Death  before  me  ;  Cet  Pain, 
fet  a  Prifon,  fet  Ignominy,  fet  Condemnation  be- 
fore me  ;  and  you  will  know  me.  This  is  the 
[proper]  Oftentation  of  a  young  Man  come  out 
from  the  Schools.  Leave  the  reft  to  others.  Let 
no  one  ever  hear  you  utter  a  Word  about  them : 
nor  fuffer  it,  if  any  one  commends  you  for  them : 
but  think  that  you  are  nobody,  and  that  you 
know  nothing.  Appear  to  know  only  this,  how 
you  may  never  be  di (appointed  of  your  Defire ; 
never  incur  your  Averfion.  Let  others  ftudy 
Caufes,  Problems,  and  Syllogifms.  Do  you  ftudy 
Death,  Chains,  Torture,  Exile  {k) :  and  all  thefe, 
H  3  with 

(h)  The  Greek  is  Arapalta,  Tranqr.illi'ty  :  but  it  Teems  to  be 
falfe  Reading  for  A7rpa|ta.  AT«p«|ia  is  the  very  Thing  which 
Epi^etushsid  been  recommending  through  the  wholeChapter.and 
which  makes  the  Subjed  of  the  next ;  and,  therefore,  cannot  be 
well  fuppofed  to  be  the  true  Reading  in  a  Place,  where  it  is  men- 
tioned with  Contempt. 

(i)  For  ivih^uvy  perhaps,  the  Reading  fliould  be  aTnX^ut ; 
and  it  is  fo  tranflated.  The  Perfon  to  whom  EpiSietus  fpeaks, 
was  a  young  Man  juft  leaving  the  philofophical  School. 

(k)  Some  Englifh  Readers,  too  happy  to  comprehend  how 
Chains,  Torture,  Exile,  and  fudden  Executions,  can  be  ranked 
among  the  common  Accidents  of  Life,  may  be  furprized  to  find 
EpiSietus  fo  frequently  endeavouring  to  prepare  his  Hearers  fo^- 
them.  But  it  mull  be  recollected,  that  he  addrefled  hirafelf  to 
Perfons,  who  lived  under  the  Raman  Emperors  j  from  whofe 
Tyranny,  the  very  bell  of  Men  were  perpetually  liable  to  fuch 
Kind  of  Dangers. 


102  "fhe  Discourses  of         Book  II. 

with  Courage,  and  Reliance  upon  Him  who  hath 
called  you  to  them,  and  judged  you  worthy  a  Pod, 
in  which  you  may  (how,  what  the  rational  govern- 
ing Faculty  can  do,  when  fet  in  Array,  againft: 
Powers  independent  on  the  Choice.  And  thus,  this 
Paradox  becomes  neither  impoffible,  nor  a  Paradox, 
that  we  mufl  be  at  once  cautious  and  courageous  : 
courageous,  in  what  doth  not  depend  upon  Choice  ; 
and  cautious,  in  what  doth. 

CHAPTER    ir. 

Of  Tranquillity, 

CONSIDER,  you  who  are  going  to  take  your 
Tryal,  what  you  wifh  to  preferve,  and  in 
what  to  fucceed.  For  if  you  wifli  to  preferve  a 
Choice  conformable  to  Nature,  you  are  intirely 
fafe  :  every  thing  goes  well  •,  you  have  no  Trou- 
ble on  your  Hands.  While  you  wifh  to  preferve 
what  is  in  your  own  Power,  and  which  is  naturally 
free,  and  are  contented  with  that,  whom  have  you 
longer  to  care  for  ?  For  who  is  the  Mafter  of  Things 
like  thefe  ?  Who  can  take  them  away  ?  If  you  wifh 
to  be  a  Man  of  Honour  and  Fidelity,  who  fhall 
prevent  you  ?  If  you  wifh  not  to  be  reftrained,  or 
compelled,  who  fhall  compel  you  to  Defires,  con- 
trary to  your  Principles ;  to  Averfions,  contrary  to 
your  Opinion  .''  The  Judge,  perhaps,  will  pafs  a 
Sentence  againfl  you,  which  he  thinks  formidable  : 
but  how  can  he  like  wife  make  you  receive  it  with 
Averfion  ?  Since,  then,  Defire  and  Averfion  are  in 
your  own  Power,  what  have  you  elfe  to  care  for  } 
Let  this  be  your  Introdudion  ;  this  your  Narration ; 
this  your  Proof ;  this  your  Victory  ;  this  your  Con- 
clufion  ;  and  this  your  Applaufe.  Thus  Socrates^ 
to  one  v/ho  put  him  in  mind  to  prepare  himfelf  for 
his  Tryal  j    *'  Do  not  you  think,  fays  he,   that  I 

"  have 


Chap.  2.  EPICTETUS.  103 

"  have  been  preparing  myfelf  for  this  very  Thing 
"  my  whole  Life  ?"-— By  what  kind  of  Prepara- 
tion ? — "  1  have  preferved  what  was  in  my  own 
*'  Power." — What  do  you  mean  ? — "  I  have  done 
'^  nothing  unjuft,  either  in  public,  or  in  private 

"  Life." 

§.  2.  But  if  you  wifli  to  preferve  Externals  too ; 
your  paultry  Body,  your  Eflate,  or  Dignity  ;  1  ad- 
vife  you  immediately  to  prepare  yourfelf  by  eve- 
ry pollible  Preparation  ;  and  befides,  confider  the 
Difpofition  of  your  Judge,  and  of  your  Adverfary. 
If  it  be  neceffary  to  fall  down  at  his  Feet  ;  fall 
down  at  his  Feet :  if  to  weep ,  weep  :  if  to  groan  ; 
groan.  For  when  you  have  fubjeded  what  is  in 
your  own  Power  to  Externals,  fubmit  to  Slavery 
at  once,  and  do  not  ftruggle  ;  and  at  one  time, 
be  willing  to  be  a  Slave,  and  at  another,  not 
willing  :  but  fimply,  and  with  your  whole  Inten- 
tion, be  one  or  the  other  ;  free,  or  a  Slave  •,  well- 
educated,  or  not  j  a  Game  Cock,  or  a  Craven  : 
either  bear  to  be  beat  till  you  die,  or  give  out 
at  once  ;  and  do  not  be  foundly  beat  firfl,  and 
then  give  out  at  lafl.  If  both  thefe  be  Ihameful, 
make  the  Diflindion  immediately. 

§.  g.  Where  is  the  Nature  of  Good  and  Evil  ? 

Where  Truth  likewife  is.  Where  Truth  and 
Avhere  Nature  are  {a\  there  is  Caution  :  where 
Truth  and  where  Nature  are  not,  there  is  Courage. 
Why,  do  you  think,  that  if  Socrates  had  wilhed  to 
preferve  Externals,  that  he  would  have  faid,  when 
he  appeared  at  his  Trial,  '■'  Anytus  and  Melitus 
may  indeed  kill  -,  but  hurt  me  they  cannot  ?"  Was 
he  fo  foolilh,  as  not  to  fee  that  this  Way  doth  not 

H  4  lead 

{a)  This  Paflaae  is  perplexed  in  the  Greek,  and  the  Tranfla- 
tion  conjeaural.  '  The  Meaning  ieems  to  be,  that  where  our 
moral  Conduft  is  concerned.  Caution  is  neceffary  ;  and  Cou- 
rage  is  neceffary  in  Things  not  dependent  on  our  own  Choice  ; 
and  with  which,  according  to  the  Stoic  Principle,  Truth  and 
Nature  have  nothing  to  do. 


104  ^^^  Discourses  <?/         Book  It- 

lead  to  that  End,  but  the  contrary  ?  What,  then, 
is  the  Reafon,  that  he  not  only  difregards,  but  pro- 
VQkes  his  Judges  ?  Thus  my  Friend  Heraclitus^  in 
a  trifling  Suit,  about  a  little  Eflate  at  Rhodes^  after 
having  proved  to  the  Judges  that  his  Caufe  was 
good,  when  he  came  to  the  Conclufion  of  his 
Speech  j  "  1  will  not  intreat  you,  fays  he  ;  nor  care 
"  what  Judgment  you  give:  for  it  is  rather  jy'<?z/ 
"  who  are  to  be  judged,  than  /.'*  And  thus  he  loft 
his  Suit.  Wha;  need  was  there  of  this  ?  Be  content 
not  to  intreat  :  do  not  tell  them  too,  that  you  will 
not  intreat  -,  unlefs  it  be  a  proper  Time  to  provoke 
the  Judges  delignedly  ;  as  -in  the  Cafe  of  Socrates, 
But  if  you  too  are  preparing  for  fuch  a  fpeech^  what 
do  you  wait  for  ?  Why  do  you  fijbrnit  to  be  tried  ? 
For  if  you  wifh  to  be  hanged,  have  Patience  and 
the  Gibbet  will  come.  But  if  you  chufe  rather  to 
fubmit,  and  make  your  Defence  as  well  as  you  can, 
all  the  reft  is  to  be  ordered  accordingly  ;  with  a  due 
Regard,  however,  to  the  Prefer: vation  of  your  own 
Charader. 

§.  4.  For  this  Reafon  it  is  ridiculous  too  to  fay, 
*'  Suggeft  to  me  what  is  to  be  done."  How  fhould 
I  know  what  to  fuggeft  to  you  ?  [You  fhould  ra- 
ther fay]  inform  my  underftanding  to  accommodate 
itfelf  to  whatever  may  be  the  Event.  The  former 
is  juft  as  if  aii  illiterate  Perfon  fhould  fay,  "  Tell 
*'  me  what  to  write,  when  any  Name  is  propofed 
to  me  i"  and  I  direct  him  to  write  Dion  ;  and  then 
another  comes,  and  propofes  to  him  the  Name  not 
of  Dion^  but  of  Iheon  ;  what  will  be  Confequence  ? 
What  will  he  write  ?  Whereas,  if  you  had  made 
Writing  your  Study,  you  would  be  ready  prepared 
for  whatever  Word  might  occur  :  if  not,  how  can 
J  fuggeft  to  you  ?  For,  if  the  Circumftances  of  the 
Affair  fhould  fuggeft  fomething  elfe,  what  will  you 
fay,  or  how  will  you  ad  ?  Remember,  then,  the 
general  Rule,  and  you  will  need  no  Suggeftion  ; 
^ut  if  you  gape  after  Externals,  you  muft  necefla- 

rily 


Chap.  3.  E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  105 

rily  be  tofs'd  up  and  down,  according  to  the  Incli- 
nation of  your  Mafter. 

And  who  is  my  Mafter  ? 

He  in  whofe  Power,  is  placed  whatever  you 
flrive  to  acquire,  or  would  avoid. 

CHAPTER    III. 

Concerning  fiich  as  recommend  Perfons  to  the  Philofo" 
phers. 

§.  I.  T\IOGENES  rightly  anfwered  one,  who 
^  defired  Letters  of  Recommendation  from 
him,  "  At  firfl  fight  he  will  know  you  to  be  a 
Man  ;  and  whether  you  are  a  good  or  a  bad  Man, 
if  he  hath  any  fkill  in  diftinguiihing,  he  will 
know  likewife  :  and,  if  he  hath  not,  he  will  ne- 
ver know  it,  though  I  fhould  write  a  thoufand 
times  (^)."  Jufl  as  if  you  were  a  Piece  of  Coin, 
and  fhould  defire  to  be  recommended  to  any  Per- 
fon  as  good,  in  order  to  be  tried  :  if  it  be  to  an  Af- 
fayer,  he  will  know  your  Value ;  for  you  will  re- 
commend yourfelf. 

§.  2.  We  ought,  therefore,  in  Life  alfo,  to  have 
fomething  analogous  to  this  Skill  in  Gold  ;  that  one 
may  be  able  to  fay,  like  the  AfTayer,  Bring  me 
whatever  Piece  you  will,  and  1  will  find  out  its  Va- 
lue :  or,  as  I  v/ould  fay  with  regard  to  Syllogifms, 
Bring  me  whomever  you  will,  and  1  will  diflinguifh 
for  you,  whether  he  knows  how  to  folve  Syllogifms, 
or  not.  Why  ?  Becaufe  I  can  folve  Syllogifms  my- 
lelf,  and  have  that  Faculty,  which  is  necelTary  for 
one  who  knows  how  to  find  out  Perfons  fkilled  in 
the  Solution  of  Syllogifms.  But  how  do  I  ad  in 
Life  ?  I  at  fometimes  call  a  Thing  good  ;  at  others, 
bad.  What  is  the  Caufe  of  this  ^  The  contrary  to 
what  happens  in  Syllogifms  ;  Ignorance,  and  Inex- 
perience. CHAP- 

{a)  This  is  one  of  the  many  extravagant  Refinements  of  the 
Piiiloibphers  ;  and  might  lead  Perfons  into  very  dangerou*  Mi- 
stakes, if  it  v;a3  laid  down  ?s  a  Maxim,  in  ordinary  Life. 


io6  ne  Discourses    of         Book  IF. 

CHAPTER    IV. 

Concerning  a  PerfoHy  who  had  been  guilty  of  Adultery. 

^.  I.  A  S  he  was  faying,  that  Man  is  made  for  Fi- 
jf\  delity  ;  and  that  whoever  fubverts  this, 
fiib verts  the  peciihar  Property  of  Man  ;  one  of  thofe 
who  pafs  for  Men  of  Literature  happened  to  come 
in,  who  had  been  found  guilty  of  Adultery,  in  that 
City.  But,  continues  Ept^etus^  if,  laying  afide  that 
Fidelity  for  which  we  were  born,  we  form  Defigns 
againft  the  Wife  of  our  Neighbour,  what  do  we  do  ? 
What  elfe  but  deftroy  and  ruin — What  ?  Fidelity, 
Honour,  and  Sandity  of  Manners.— Only  thefe  ? 
And  do  not  we  ruin  Neighbourhood  ?  Friendfhip  ? 
Our  Country  ?  In  what  R  ank  do  we  place  ourfelves  ? 
How  am  I  to  confider  you.  Sir  ?  As  a  Neighbour  ? 
A  Friend  ?  What  Sort  of  one  ?  As  a  Citizen  ?  How 
fhall  I  trufl  you  ?  Indeed,  if  you  were  fbme  forry 
VefTel,  fb  noifome  that  no  Ufe  could  be  made  of 
you  ;  you  might  be  thrown  on  a  Dunghill,  and  no 
Mortal  would  take  the  Trouble  to  pick  you  up : 
but  if,  being  a  Man^  you  cannot  fill  any  one  Place 
in  human  Society,  what  fliall  we  do  with  you  ?  For, 
fuppofe  you  cannot  hold  the  Place  of  a  Friend,  can 
you  hold  even  that  of  a  Slave  ?  And  who  will  trufl 
you  ?  Why,  then,  fhould  not  you  alfo  be  contented 
to  be  thrown  upon  fome  Dunghill,  as  a  ufelefs  Vef- 
fel,  and  indeed  as  mere  Dung  ?  Will  you  fay,  after 
this,  Hath  no  one  any  Regard  for  me^  a  Man  of 
Letters  ?  W  by,  you  are  wicked,  and  fit  for  no  Ufe. 
Juft  as  if  W^afps  fhould  take  it  ill  that  no  one  hath 
any  Regard  for  them  ;  but  all  fliun,  and  whoever 
can,  beats  them  down.  You  have  fuch  a  Sting, 
that  whoever  you  flrike  with  it,  is  thrown  into 
Troubles  and  Pangs.  What  would  you  have  us  do 
with  you  ?  There  is  no-where  to  place  you. 

§.  2. 


Chap.  5.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  107 

§.2.  What,  then,  are  not  Women,  by  Nature, 
common  ? 

I  admit  it  :  and  fo  is  a  Pig  at  Table  common  to 
thofe  who  are  invited.  But,  after  it  is  diftributed, 
go,  if  you  think  proper,  and  fnatch  away  the  Share 
of  him  who  fits  next  you  ;  or  flily  (leal  it,  or  flretch 
out  your  Hand,  and  tafle  ;  and,  if  you  cannot  tear 
away  any  of  the  Meat,  dip  your  Fingers  and  lick 
them.  A  fine  Companion  !  A  Socratic  Guell  in- 
deed !  Again  :  Is  not  the  Theatre  common  to  all 
Citizens .?  Therefore  come,  when  all  are  feated,  if 
you  think  proper,  and  turn  any  one  of  them  out  of 
his  Place.  Thus  Women  are  common  by  Nature  : 
but  when  the  Legiflator,  like  the  Mailer  of  an  En- 
tertainment, diflributes  them,  will  not  you,  like  the 
refl  of  the  Company,  be  contented  with  defiring  a 
Share  for  yourfelf ;  but  mufl  you  pilfer,  and  tafle 
what  belongs  to  another  ? 

But  I  am  a  Man  of  Letters,  and  underfland 
Arckedemus  {a). 

\\'ith  all  your  Underflanding  o^ Archedemus^  then, 
be  an  Adulterer,  and  a  Rogue  :  And,  inflead  of  a 
Man,  a  Wolf,  or  an  Ape.  For  where  is  the  Dif- 
ference ? 

CHAPTER    V. 

How  Magnanimity  may  he  con/iflent  with  Care. 

§.  i.np  HE  Materials  of  Adion  are  indifferent  : 
A    but  the  Ufe  of  them  is  not  indifferent. 
How,  then,  fliall  one  preferve  Intrepidity  and 
Tranquillity  ;  and  at  the  fame  time  be  careful,  and 
neither  rafh,  nor  indolent. 

By  imitating^  thofe  who  play  at  Tables.     The 
Dice  are  indiflerent  ;    the  Pieces  are  indifferent. 
How  do  I  know  what  will  fall  out  ?  But  it  is  my 
Bufmefs,  to  manage  carefully  and  dextroufly  what- 
ever 
(«)  A  Stoic  Phllofopher,  o{ Tar/us,  xnCilicia,     Upton. 


io8  The  Discourses  of        Book  II 

ever  doth  fall  out.  Thus  in  Life  too,  this  is  the 
chief  Bufmefs  :  diflinguifh,  and  feparate  Things  ; 
and  fay,  "  Externals  are  not  in  my  Power  ;  Choice 
"  is.  Where  (hall  I  feek  Good  and  Evil  ?  Within  ; 
*'  in  what  is  my  own."  But  in  what  belongs  to 
others,  call  nothing  Good,  or  Evil,  or  Profit,  or 
Hurt,  or  any  thing  of  that  Sort. 

§  2.  What  then,  are  we  to  treat  thefe,  in  a  care- 
lefs  Way? 

By  no  means :  for  this,  on  the  other  hand,  is  an 
evil  Exercife  of  the  Faculty  of  Choice ;  and  on  that 
{b)  account,  againfl  Nature.  But  we  are  to  adt 
with  Care,  becaufe  the  Ufe  of  the  Materials  [of  Ac- 
tion] is  not  indifferent ;  and  at  the  fame  time  with 
Intrepidity  and  Tranquillity,  becaufe  xhc  Materials 
themfelves  are  indifferent.  For  where  a  Thing  is 
not  indifferent,  there  no  one  can  reftrain  or  com- 
pell  me.  Where  I  am  capable  of  being  reflrained, 
or  compelled,  the  Acquifition  doth  not  depend  up- 
on me  ;  nor  is  either  good  or  evil.  The  Ufe  of  it, 
indeed,  is  either  good  or  evil ;  but  that  doth  depend 
upon  me.  It  is  difficult,  I  own,  to  blend  and  unite 
fin  one  Character]  the  Careful nefs  of  one  who  is  af- 
fedted  by  the  Materials  of  Adtion,  and  the  Intrepidity 
of  one  who  difregards  them ;  but  it  is  not  impolfible :  - 
if  it  be,  it  is  impoffible  to  be  happy.  How  do  we  adt 
in  a  Voyage }  What  is  in  my  Power  ?  To  chufe  the 
Pilot,  the  Sailors,  the  Day,  the  Time  of  Day.  Af- 
terwards comes  a  Storm.  What  have  I  to  care  for  ^ 
My  Part  is  performed.  The  Subjedl  belongs  to  ano- 
ther, to  the  Pilot.  But  the  Ship  is  fmking :  What 
then  have  I  to  do  ^  That  which  alone  I  can  do ;  I 
am  drowned,  without  Fear,  without  Clamour,  or 
accufmg  God  •,  but  as  one  who  knows,  that  what  is 
born,  mull  likewife  die.  For  I  am  not  Eternity,  but 
a  Man  ;  a  Part  of  the  Whole,  as  an  Hour  is  of  the 
Day.  I  mufl  come  like  an  Hour,  and  like  an 
Hour  muft  pafs  away.     What  fignifies  it  whether 

by 
{b)  T\iQ  Traaflation  follows  Mr.  Vptgn^  Conje6lute« 


Chap.  5.        EPICTETUS.  109 

by  Drowning,  or  by  a  Fever?  For,  in  fome 
Way  or  other,   pafs  1  muft. 

§.3.  This  you  may  fee  to  be  the  Pradice  of 
thole,  who  play  fkilfuUy  at  Ball.  No  one  contends 
for  the  Bali  [itfelfj,  as  either  a  Gpod  or  an  Evil; 
but  how  he  may  throw,  and  catch  it  again.  Here 
lies  the  Addrefs,  here  the  Art,  the  Nimblenefs,  the 
Sagacity  ;  that  1  may  not  be  able  to  catch  it,  even 
if  1  hold  up  my  Lap  for  it ;  another  may  catch- it, 
whenever  I  throw  it.  But  if  we  catch  or  throw  it, 
with  Fear  or  Perturbation,  what  Kind  of  Play  will 
this  be  ?  How  fhall  we  keep  ourfelves  fceady ;  or 
how  fee  the  Order  of  the  Game  ?  One  will  fay, 
Throw  :  another,  Do  not  throw  :  a  Third,  You 
have  thrown  once  already.  .  This  is  a  mere  Quar- 
rel ;  not  a  Play.  Therefore  Socrates  well  under- 
llood  playing  at  Ball. 

What  do  you  mean  ? 

Ufmg  Pleafantry  at  his  Trial  "  Tell  me,  fays 
*'  he,  Anytus^  how  can  you  fay,  that  I  do  not  be* 
*'  lieve  a  God  ?  What  do  you  think  Demons 
*'^  are  ^  {c)  Are  they  not  either  the  Offspring  of 
"  the  Gods,  or  compounded  of  Gods  and  Men  ?" 

"-  Yes.'* Do  you   think,  then,    that  one 

"  can  believe  there  are  Mules,  and  not  believe,  that 
*'  there  are  Afles.?'*  This  was  jufl  as  if  he  had 
been  playing  at  Ball     And  what  was  the  Ball  he 

had 

(c)  Socrates  profeffed  himfelf  to  have  a  good  Demon  ;  and 
argues  here  jocularly  from  thence,  that  he  mult  believe  the 
Exiftence  of  a  Deity  :  ashew^ho  believes  there  are  Mules,  muft 
believe  there  are  AfTes ;  becaufe  that  Species  enters  into  the 
Compofition  of  the  other.  But  there  is  a  Play  upon  the  Wods 
in  the  Original,  which  cannot  be  preferved  in  the  Tranflation. 
One  cannot,  I  think,  help  regretting,  that  Plato  Ihould  relate, 
and  EpiSletus  approve,  a  Witticifm  unworthy  of  the  Attic  Ge- 
nius  i  and  an  Initance  of  Levity,  on  fo  awful  a  SubjeiSt,  unbe- 
coming the  Charadler  of  the  wife  and  pious  Socrates.  It  may, 
however,  be  fome  Excufe,  that  he  thought  neither  his  Accufer, 
nor  his  Judges  deferved,  or  were  likely  to  be  influenced  by,  a 
more  ferious  Anfwer. 


1 10  The  Discourses  of        Book  If. 

had  to  play  with?  Life,  Chains,  Exile,  a  Draught 
of  Poifon,  Separation  from  a  Wife,  and  the  De- 
fertion  of  Orphan  Children.  Thefe  were  what  he 
had  to  play  with ;  and  yet,  neverthelefs,  he  did 
play,  and  threw  the  Ball  with  Addrefs.  Thus  we 
fhould  be  careful  ^how  we  play  ;  but  indifferent,  as 
to  the  Ball  itfelf  We  are  by  all  means  to  manage 
external  Materials  with  Art ;  not  taking  them  for 
ourfelves  ;  but  Ihovving  our  Art  about  them,  what- 
ever they  may  happen  to  be.  Thus  a  Weaver 
doth  not  make  the  Wool :  but  employs  his  Art 
upon  what  is  given  him.  It  is  another  who  gives 
you  Food,  and  a  Property :  and  may  take  them 
away,  and  your  paultry  Body  too.  Do  you,  how- 
ever, work  upon  the  Materials  you  have  received  \ 
and  then,  if  you  come  off  unhurt,  others,  no  doubt, 
who  meet  you,  will  congratulate  you  on  your  Ef- 
cape.  But  he  who  hath  a  clearer  Infight  into  fiich- 
Things,  if  he  fees  [indeed]  you  have  behaved  in  a 
becoming  Manner,  will  praife  and  congratulate  you  : 
but,  if  you  owe  your  Efcape  to  any  unbecoming 
A(5tion,  the  contrary.  For  where  there  is  a  reafon- 
able  Caufe  of  Rejoicing,  there  is  likewife  [a  reafon- 
able  Caufe]  of  Congratulation. 

§.  4.  How,  then,  are  fome  external  Things 
fcid  to  be  according  to  Nature  i  others  contrary 
to  it? 

When  we  are  confidered  as  unconne6led  Indivi- 
duals. I  will  allow  it  is  natural  for  the  Foot,  [for 
Inftance,]  to  be  clean.  But  if  you  take  it  as  a  Foot, 
and  not  as  an  unconneded  individual  Thing,  it  will 
be  fit  that  it  fhould  walk  in  the  Dirt,  and  tread 
upon  Thorns ;  and  fometimes  that  it  fhould  even 
be  cutoff,  for  the  Good  of  the  Whole :  otherwife  it 
is  no  longer  a  Foot.  We  fhould  reafon  in  fbme 
ilich  manner  concerning  ourfelves.  What  are  you  ? 
A  Man.  If  then,  indeed,  you  confider  yourfelf, 
as  an  unconneded  Individual,  it  is  natural  that  you 

Ihould 


Chap.  6.        EPICTETUS.  m 

Ihould  live  to  old  Age  ;  be  rich,  and  healthy  :  but 
if  you  confider  yourielf  as  a  Man,  and  as  a.  Part  of 
the  Whole,  it  will  be  fit,  on  the  Account  of  that 
Whole,  that  you  fliould  at  one  time  be  Tick  ^  at 
another,  take  a  Voyage,  and  be  expofed  to  Dan- 
ger :  fometimes  be  in  Want  -,  and  polTibly  it  may 
happen,  die  before  your  Time.  Why,  then,  are 
you  difpleafed  ?  Do  not  you  know,  that  elfe.  as  the 
other  is  no  longer  a  Foot,  fo  you  are  no  longer,  a 
Man  ?  For  what  is  a  Man  ?  A  Part  of  a  Common- 
wealth ;  principally  of  that  which  confiils  of  Gods 
and  Men  ;  and  next,  of  that  to  which  you  imme- 
diately belong,  which  is  a  Miniature  of  the  univer- 
fal  City. 

§.  5.  What  then,  muft  I,  at  one  Time,  be  called 
to  a  Trial  -,  muft  another,  at  another  Time,  be 
fcorched  by  a  Fever ;  another  be  expofed  to  the  Sea ; 
another  die  ;  and  another  be  condemned  ? 

Yes  :  for  it  is  impoflible,  in  fuch  a  Body,  in  fuch 
a  World,  and  among  fuch  Companions,  but  that 
fome  or  other  of  us  muft  fall  into  fuch  Circumftan- 
ces-  (d)  Your  Bufmefs,  when  you  come  into  them,  is, 
to  fay  what  you  ought,  to  order  Things  as  you  can. 
Then  fays  one,  *'  1  decide  that  you  have  adted  un- 
*'  juftly."  Much  Good  may  it  do  you ;  I  have  done 
my  Part.  You  are  to  look  to  it,  whether  you  have 
dont yours  :  for  there  is  fome  Danger  of  that  too 
let  me  tell  you. 

CHAPTER    VI. 

Of  Indifference. 

§•  I  •     A    Hypothetical  Propofition  is  an  indifferent 

JLjL  Thing;  but  the  Judgment  concerning 

it,  is  not  indifferent :  but   is  either  Knowledge,   or 

Opinion, 

(d)  See  p.  3.  Note  r. 


1 1 z  The  Discourses  of         Book  It, 

Opinion^  or  Miflake.  Thus  Life  is  indifferent ;  the 
U/e  of  it  not  indifferent.  When  you  are  told,  there-- 
fore,  that  thefe  Things  are  indifferent,  do  not, 
upon  that  account,  ever  be  carelefs  ;  nor,  when 
you  are  excited  to  Carefulnefs,  be  abjed,  and  flruck 
by  the  Admiration  of  the  Materials  of  Adion.  It 
is  good  to  know  your  own  Qiialifications  and  Pow- 
ers ;  that,  where  you  are  not  qualified,  you  may  be 
quiet,  and  not  angry  that  others  have  the  Advan- 
tage of  you,  in  fuch  Things.  For  you  too,  [in  your 
Turn,]  will  think  it  reafonable,  that  you  fliould 
have  the  Advantage  in  the  Art  of  Syllogifms  :  and, 
if  others  fhould  be  angry  at  it,  you  will  tell 'them,  by 
way  of  Confolation,  "  ihave  learned  it,  mdyou  have 
*'  not/'  Thus  too,  v/here-ever  Pradice  is  neceC- 
fary,  do  not  pretend  to  what  can  be  attained  no 
other  Way  ♦,  but  leave  the  Matter  to  thofe  who  are 
pradifed  in  it,  and  do  you  be  contented  with  a 
compofed  Firmnefs  of  Mind.  "  Go,  for  Inflance, 
*'  and  pay  your  Compliments  to  fuch   a  Perfon,'' 

*'  How  ?"     "  Not  meanly." ^'  But  1  have 

"  been  fhut  out  -,  for  I  have  not  learned  to  get  in  at 
*'  the  Window :  and,  finding  the  Door  fhut,  I  mufl 
''  neceffarily  either  go  back,  or  get  in  at  the  Win- 
**  dow."  ''  But  fpeak  to  him  too.''  ''  I  will  fpeak 
"  to  him."  ''  In  what  manner  ?  "  Not  meanly.'* 
But  you  have  not  fucceeded  •,  for  this  was  not  your 
Bufmefs,  but  bts.  Why  do  you  claim  what  be- 
longs to  another  ?  Always  remember  wiiat  is  your 
own,  and  what  is  another's  5  and  you  will  never  be 
dillurbed. 

§.  2.  HcDct  Cbry/ip;us  nghi\y  fays;  While Con- 
fequences  are  uncertain,  I  will  keep  to  thofe  Things 
which  are  beft  adapted  to  the  Attainment  of  what  is 
conformable  to  Nature  :  for  Godhimfelf  hath  form- 
ed me  to  chufe  this.  If  1  knew,  that  it  was  now  de- 
fined for  me  to  be  fick,  I  would  even  exert  my  Pur- 
fuits  towards  it :  for  even  the  Foot,  if  it  had  Un- 
derftanding,  would  exert  itfelf  to  get  into  the  Dirt. 

For 


Chap.  6:         E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  113 

For  why  are  Ears  of  Corn  produced,  if  it  be  not  to 
ripen  ?  and  why  do  they  ripen,  if  not  to  be  reaped  ? 
For  they  are  not  feparate  Individuals.  If  they  were 
capable  of  Senfe,  do  you  think  they  would  widi 
never  to  be  reaped  ?  It  would  be  a  Curfe  upon 
Ears  of  Corn,  not  to  be  reaped  :  and  we  ought  to 
know,  that  it  would  be  a  Curfe  upon  Man,  not  to 
die ;  like  that  of  not  ripening,  and  not  being  reap- 
ed. Since,  then,  it  is  necefiary  for  us  to  be  reaped, 
and  we  have,  at  the  fame  time,  Underflanding  to 
know  it,  are  we  angry  at  it  ?  This  is  only  becaufe 
we  neither  know  what  we  are,  nor  have  fludied 
what  belongs  to  Man,  as  Jockies  do,  what  belongs  to 
Horfes.  Y^tC/jryfanlaswh^n  he  was  about  to  ftrike 
an  Enemy,  on  hearing  the  Trumpet  found  a  Retreat, 
drew  back  his  Hand :  for  he  thought  it  more  eligi- 
ble to  obey  the  Command  of  liis  General,  than  his 
own  Inclination  (a).  But  not  one  of  us^  even  when 
Neceflity  calls,  is  ready  and  willing  to  obey  it :  but 
we  fufFer,  whatever  Things  we  do  fufFer,  weeping 
and  groaning,  and  calling  them  our  Cirrumflan- 
ces  {b)  What  Circumftances,  Man  ?  For  if  you 
call  what  furrounds  you,  Circumjiances^  every  thing 
is  a  Circum/iance :  but,  if  you  apply  this  Name  to 
Hardfhips,  where  is  the  Hardfhip,  that  whatever  is 
born  mull  die.  The  Inllrument  is  either  a  Sword, 
or  a  Wheel,  or  the  Sea,  or  a  Tile,  or  a  Tyrant. 
And  what  doth  it  fignify  to  you,  by  what  Way 
you  delcend  to  Hades  ^  All  are  equal :  but,  if  you 
would  hear  the  Truth,  the  lliortefl  is  that  by  which 
a  Tyrant  fends  you.  No  Tyrant  was  ever  fix 
.       '  I  Months, 

(a)  In  a  Speech  which  C\rus  made  to  his  Soldiers,  after  the 
Battle  with  tiie  Affjrians^  he  mentions  Chryfantas,  one  of  iiis 
Captains,  with  paiticuJai  Honour,  for  this  Inltance  of  his  Obe- 
dience.    Xenoph.  L.  iv. 

(b)  rie^tracrats,  in  Greek,  hath  a  double  Meaning,  which  can- 
not be  pieiervedin  a  Tranflation.  It  fignifies  both  in  general, 
Circumtlances,  and  in  particular,  bard  Ciicumftances,  or  Di:H- 
culties. 


I f 4  7he  Discourses  of       Book  11. 

Months,  in  cutting  any  Man's  Throat :  but  a  Fever 
is  often  a  Year  [in  killing.]  All  thefe  Things  are 
mere  Sound,  and  the  Pomp  of  empty  Names. 

My  Life  is  in  Danger  from  Cafar. 

And  am  not  /in  Danger,  who  dwell  at  NicopoUs^ 
where  there  are  fo  many  Earthquakes  ?  And  when 
you  yourfelf  crofs  the  Adriatic  {c\  what  is  then  in 
Danger  ?    Is  not  your  Life  ? 

Ay :  but  I  am  in  Danger,  with  refpedl  to  Opi- 
nion. 

What,  your  own  ?  How  fo  ?  Can  any  one  com- 
pel you  to  have  any  Opinion,  contrary  to  your  own 
Inclination  ? 

But  the  Opinions  of  others  too. 

And  what  Danger  is  it  of  yourSy  if  others  have 
falfe  Opinions  ? 

But  I  am  m  Danger  of  being  banifhed. 

What  is  it  to  be  baniftied  ?  To  be  fome-where 
elfe  than  at  Rome, 

Yes  :    but  what  if  I  fliould  be  fent  to  Gyaros  ? 

If  it  be  worth  your  while,  you  will  go  :  if  not, 
you  have  another  Place  to  go  to ;  where  he,  who 
now  fends  you  to  Gyaros ^  muft  go  likewife,  whether 
he  will  or  not  {d).  Why,  then,  do  you  come  to 
thefe,  as  to  great  Trials .?  They  are  not  equal  to 
your  Qualifications.  So  that  an  ingenuous  young  Man 
would  fay,  It  was  not  worth  while  for  this,  to  have 
read,  and  writ^  fo  much,  and  to  have  fat  fo  long, 
liftening  to  a  good-for-nothing  old  Fellow.  Only 
remember,  that  Divifion,  by  which  your  own^  and 
not  your  own,  is  dillinguifhed,  and  you  will  never 

claim 

(c)  EpiHetus  probably  means,  in  the  Way  Home,  from  iW- 
(opolis  to  Rome  ;  whence  this  Perlbn  had  come  to  hear  him. 

(d)  How  gloomy,  how  empty  the  Stoic  Confolation  !  How 
differently  would  the  Chriftian  anfwer.  "  Well,  and  can  he 
"  banifh  you  from  the  Prefence  of  your  true  Sovereign,  your 
"  indulgent  Father,  your  beft  Friend }  And  what,  then,  is 
"  Gyaros  worfe  than  Rome?  You,  behaving  well  in  Adverfity, 
**  are  the  Object  of  Almighty  Protedion  and  future  Reward  : 
**  he,  amidft  his  Tyranny,  accountable  to  an  offended  Judge." 


Chap.r:         EPICTETUS.  115 

claim  what  belongs  to  others.  A  Tribunal,  and  a 
Prifon,  is,  each  of  them,  a  Place ;  one  high,  the 
other  low :  but  Choice  is  equal :  and  if  you  have  a 
mind  to  keep  it  equal  for  JDOth  Places,  it  may  be 
kept.  We  (hall  then  become  Imitators  of  Socrates^ 
when,  even  in  a  Prifon,  we  are  able  to  write 
Hymns  {e)  of  Praife  :  but,  as  we  now  are,  confider 
whether  we  could  bear,  that  even  another  fhould 
fay  to  us  in  a  Prifon,  "  Shall  I  read  you  a  Hymn  of 

*'  Praife  ?" "  Why  do  you  trouble  me  :  do  .you 

*'  know  in  what  a  fad  Situation  I  am  ?"    In  fuch 
*'  Circumftances,  am  I  able  to  hear  Hymns?"— 

*'  What  Circumftances  ?" ''  I  am  going  to 

*'  die." "  And  are  all  other  Men  to  be  im- 

^'  mortal?" 

CHAPTER    VII. 

Of  Divination. 

§.  I .  Tn  R  O  M  an  unfeafbnable  Regard  to  Divi- 
X  nation,  we  omit  many  Duties  (^).  For 
what  can  the  Diviner  fee,  befides  Death,  or  Danger, 
or  Sicknefs,  or,  in  (hort,  Things  of  this  Kind  ? 
When  it  is  neceffary,  then,  to  expofe  one's  felf  to 
Danger  for  a  Friend,  or  even  a  Duty  to  die  for 
him,  what  Occafion  have  I  for  Divination  ^  Have 
not  I  a  Diviner  within,  who  hath  told  me  the  El- 
fence  of  Good  and  Evil ;  and  who  explains  to  me 
the  Indications  of  both  .?  Vs^hat  further  Need, 
then,  have  I  of  the  Entrails  [of  Vidtimsj,  or  [the 
Flightl  of  Birds  ?  Can  I  bear  with  the  other  Divi- 
ner, when  he  fays,  "  This  is  for  your  Intereft  ?" 
I  2  For 

(e)  Socrates  writ  a  Hymn  to  /fpolloy  when  he  was  in  Prifon  > 
of  which  Diogenes  Laertius  recites  the  firll  Line.  See  the  Be- 
haviour of  Pau/  and  Si/as  on  a  parallel  Occafion.     J^s  xvi.  25. 

(a)  The  Stoics  were  Advocates  for  Divination;  though  they 
condemned,  what  they  deemed,  the  Abufes  of  It.  The  3  2d 
Chapter  of  the  Enchiridion  is  on  the  fame  Subjeft. 


ii6  !n7^  Discou  RSES  qf         Book  It 

For  doth  he  know  what  is  for  my  Interefl  ?  Doth 
he  know  what  Good  is  ?  Hath  he  learned  the  In- 
dications of  Good  and  Evil,  as  he  hath  thofe  of  the 
Vidims  ?  If  fo,  he  knows  the  Indications  likewife 
of  Fair  and  Bafe,  Juil  and  Unjufl.  Do  you  tell  me. 
Sir,  what  is  indicated  to  me  ?  Life  or  Death  ; 
Riches  or  Poverty.  But  whether  thefe  Things  are 
for  my  Interell,  or  not,  I  fhall  not  inquire  o^  yxru, 
*'  Why  ?"  Becaufe  you  do  not  give  your  Opinion 
about  Grammar  [or  any  eftablifhed  Point  of  Know- 
ledge] ;  and  do  you  give  it  here,  in  Things  about 
which  we  all  take  different  Ways,  and  difpute  v(ith 
one  another  ?  Therefore  the  Lady,  who  was  goitjg 
to  fend  a  Month's  Provifion  to  Gratilla  (b)^  in  hdr 
Banifhment,  made  a  right  Anfwer  to  one,  who 
told  her  Domitian  would  ?eize  it :  I  had  rather,  fays 
fhe,  that  he  fhould  feize  it,  than  I  not  fend  it. 

§.  2.  What,  then,  is  it  that  leads  us  fo  often  to 
Divination  ?  Cowardice ;  the  Dread  of  Events. 
Hence  we  flatter  the  Diviners.     ''  Pray,  Sir,  (hall  I 

"  inherit  my  Father's  Eftate  .^" "  Let  us  fee  : 

"  let  us  facrince  upon  the  Occafion." "  Nay, 

"  Sir,  jufl  as  Fortune  pleafes."  Then,  ifhefays^ 
*'  You  (hall  inherit  it,  we  give  him  Thanks,  as  if 
we  received  the  Inheritance  from  him.  The  Confe- 
quence  of  this  is,  that  they  play  upon  us. 

§.  3.    What,  then,  is  to  be  done } 

We  fhould  come  without  previous  Defire  or  Aver- 
fion.  As  a  Traveller  inquires  the  Road  of  the 
Perfon  he  meets,  without  any  Defire  for  that  which, 
turns  to  the  right  Hand,  more  than  to  the  Left :  for 
he  wifhes  for  neither  of  thefe ;  but  that  only  which 
leads  him  properly.  Thus  we  fhould  come  to 
God,  as  to  a  Guide.  Juft  as  we  make  ufe  of  our 
Eyes  :  not  perfuading  them  to  fhow  us  one  Objedt 
rather  than  another  i  but  receiving  fuch  as  they 

prefeni 

(h)  A    Lady  of  high  Rank  at  Rome,  banifhed  from  Italj^ 
among  many  other  nobJe  Perfons,  by  Domitian, 


Chap.  8.        EPICTETUS.  ^117 

prefent  to  us.  But  now  we  hold  the  Bird  with  Fear 
and  Trenabling :  and,  in  our  Invocations  to  God, 
intreat  him  ;  "  Lord  have  Mercy  upon  me  :  fuffer 
"  me  to  come  off  fafe."  You,  Wretch!  would 
you  have  any  thing  then,  but  what  is  bell  ?  And 
what  is  beft,  but  what  pleafes  God  ?  Why  do  you, 
as  far  as  in  you  lies,  corrupt  your  Judge,  and  fe~ 
duce  your  Advifer  ? 

CHAPTER    VIII. 

Wherein  conjijls  the  Effence  of  Good. 

§.  I.   /^^  OD  is  beneficial.     Good  is  alfo  bene- 

Vj  ficial.     It  fhouldieem,  then,  that  where 

the  Effence  of  God  is,  there  too  is  the  EiTence  of 

Good.     What  then  is  the  Effence  of  God  .?  Flefli  ? 

By  no  means.     An  Eflate  ? Fame  } 

By  no  means.     Intelligence.^   Knowledge?    Right 

Reafon  .^ Certainly.     Here  then,  without  more 

ado,  feek  the  Eflence  of  Good.     For,  do  you  feek 

it  in  a  Plant  ? No. — —Or  in  a  Brute  ^ No. 

If  then  you  feek  it  only  in  a  rational  Sub- 
ject, why  do  you  feek  it  any  where  but  in.  what  isi 
diftind  from  Irrationals  ?  Plants  have  not  the  Ufe 
of  the  Appearances  of  Things  ;  and  therefore  you 

do  not  apply  the  Term  Good  to  them. Gond^ 

then,  requires  the  Ule  of  thefe  Appearances.  And 
nothing  elfe  ^  If  fo,  you  may  fay,  that  Good, 
and  Happinefs,  and  Unhappinefs,  belong  to  mere 
Animals.  But  this  you  do  not  fay  ;  and  you  are 
right  :  for,  how  much  foever  they  have  the  Ufe  of 
the  Appearances  of  Things,  they  have  not  the  Fa- 
culty of  underftanding  that  Ufe ;  and  with  good 
Reafon :  for  they  are  made  to  be  fubfervient  to 
others,  and  not  Principals  themfelves.  Why  was 
an  Afs  nrade  ^  Was  it  as  a  Principal  ?  No  :  but 
becaufe  we  had  need  of  a  Back  able  to  carry  Bur- 
thens.   We  had  need  too  that  he  fhould  walk ; 

I  3  therefore 


1 18  7'fe  Discourses  of        Book  II. 

therefore  he  had  the  Ufe  of  the  .Appearances  of 
Things  added  ;  otherwiie  he  could  not  have  walk- 
ed. But  here  his  Endowments  end  :  for,  if  an 
Underllanding  of  that  Ufe  had  been  likewife 
added,  he  would  not,  in  Reafbn,  have  been  fub- 
jed  to  us,  nor  have  done  us  thefe  Services ;  but 
would  have  been  like,  and  equal  to  ourfelves. 
Why  will  you  not,  therefore,  feek  the  Effence  of 
Good  in  that,  without  which,  you  will  not  fay, 
there  can  be  Good  in  any  thing  ? 

§.  2.  What  then  ?  Are  not  thefe  likewife  the 
Works  of  the  Gods  ?  They  are :  but  not  Princi- 
pals, nor  Parts  of  the  Gods.  But  you  are  a  Prin- 
cipal. You  are  a  diflind  Portion  of  the  Effence  of 
God  ;  and  contain  a  certain  Part  of  him  in  your- 
felf  {a)»  Why  then  are  you  ignorant  of  your  noble 
Birth  ?  Why  do  not  you  confider,  whence  you  came  ? 
why  do  not  you  remember,  when  you  are  eating, 
who  you  a^re  who  eat ;  and  whom  you  feed  ?  When 
you  are  in  the  Company  of  Women ;  when  yoii 
are  converfing;  when  you  are  exerciling;  when 
you  are  difputing ;  do  not  you  know,  that  it  is  a 
God  you  feed  ;  a  God  you  exercile  }  You  carry  a 
God  about  with  you,  Wretch,  and  know  nothing 
of  it.  Do  you  fuppofe  I  mean  fome  God  without 
you  of  Gold  or  Silver .?  It  is  within  yourfelf  you 
carry  him ;  and  profane  him,  without  being 
fenfible  of  it,  by  impure  Thoughts,  and  unclean 
Adlions.     If  even  the  Image  of  God  were  prefent, 

you 

(a)  See  Introdudion,  §-19. 

See  YCor.  vi.  19.  2  Cor.  vi.  16.  2  Tim.  i.  14.  i  yohnm. 
24.  iv.  12,  13.  But  though  the  fimple  ExprefTion  of  carrying 
God  about  with  us,  may  Teem  to  have  forae  nearly  parallel  to  it 
in  the  New  Teftament,  yet  thofe  reprefent  the  Almighty  in  a 
more  venerable  Manner ;  as  talcing  the  Hearts  of  Good  Meii 
for  a  Temple  to  dv^^ell  in.  But  the  other  ExprefTions  here  of 
Feeding  and  Exerciling  God,  and  the  Whole  of  the  Paragraph^ 
and  indeed  of  the  Stoic  Syftem,  fliew  the  real  Senfe  of  even  its 
more  decent  Phrafcs  to  be  vaftly  diiFerent  from  that  of  Scrip- 
ture, 


Chap.?.       EPICTETUS.  u^ 

you  would  not  dare  to  a6t  as  you  do  :  and  when 
God  himfelf  is  within  you,  and  hears  and  fees  all, 
are  not  you  adiamed  to  think  and  adl  thus ;  infen* 
fiblc  of  your  own  Nature,  and  hateful  to  God  ? 

§.  3.  After  all,  why  are  we  afraid,  when  we 
fend  a  young  Man  from  the  School,  into  Adion, 
that  he  fhould  behave  indecently,  eat  indecently, 
con verfe  indecently  with  Women:  that  he  fhould 
either  debafe  himfelf  by  a  fhabby  Dreis,  or  clothe 
himfelf  too  finely  ?  Doth  not  he  know  the  God 
within  him  ?  Doth  not  he  know  with  whom  he 
fets  out  ?  Have  we  Patience  to  hear  him  fay,  "  I 
'*  wifh  to  haveyou  with  me." 

Have  you  not  God  ?  Do  you  feek  any  other, 
while  you  have  him  ?  Or  will  He  tell  you  any  other 
than  thefe  things  ?  If  you  were  a  Statue  of  PhidtaSj 
either  Jupiter  or  Minerva^  you  would  remember 
both  yourfelf  and  the  Artifl;  and,  if  you  had  any 
Senfe,  you  would  endeavour  to  do  nothing  unworthy 
of  him  who  formed  you,  or  of  yourfelf :  nor  to  ap- 
pear in  an  unbecoming  Manner,  to  Spectators. 
And  are  you  now  carelefs  how  you  appear,  becaufe 
you  are  the  Workmanfhip  of  Jupiter  f  And  yet, 
what  Comparifbn  is  there,  either  between  the  Ar- 
tifls,  or  the  Things  they  have  formed  ?  What 
Work  of  any  [human]  Art ifl  contains  in  itfelf,  thofe 
Faculties  which  are  fhown,  in  forming  it  ?  Is  it 
any  thing  but  Marble,  or  Brafs,  or  Gold,  or  Ivory  ? 
And  the  Minerva  of  Phidias^  when  its  Hand  is  once 
extended,  and  a  Vi5fory  placed  in  it,  remains  in 
that  Attitude,  for  ever.  But  the  Works  of  God  are 
indued  with  Motion,  Breath,  the  Ufe  of  the  Ap- 
pearances of  Things,  Judgment.  Being,  then, 
the  Formation  of  fuch  an  Artift,  will  you  difhonour 
him ;  efpecially,  when  he  hath  not  only  formed, 
but  intrufted,  and  given  the  Guardianfhip  of  you, 
to  yourfelf?  Will  you  not  only  be  forgetful  of  this, 
but,  moreover,  difhonour  the  Trufl  ?  If  God  had 
committed  feme  Orphan  to  your  Charge,  would 

I  4  you 


1 20  ^he  Discourses  <?/  Book  IL 

you  have,  been  thus  carelefs  of  him  ?  He  hath 
delivered  yourfelf  to  your  Care  i  and  fays,  *'  I 
*'  had  no  one  fitter  to  be  trufled  than  you :  pre- 
*'  ferve  this  Perfon  for  Me,  fuch  as  he  is  by  Na- 
**  ture ;  modefl,  faithful,  fublime,  unterrified,  dif- 
^'  paflionate,  tranquil  :"  And  will  you  not  pre- 
fer ve  him  ? 

§.  4.  But  it  will  be  faid  -,   "Whence  this  fuperci- 
*'  lious  Look,  and  Gravity  of  Face  ?"    [in  our  young 

Philofopher] "  I  have  not  yet  fo  much  Gra- 

*'  vity,  as  the  Cafe  deferves.  I  do  not  yet  truft 
"  to  what  I  have  learned,  and  afTented  to. .  I  flill 
*'  fear  my  own  Weaknefs.  Let  me  but  take  Cou- 
"  rage  a  little,  and  then  you  (hall  fee  Rich  a  Look, 
*'  and  fuch  an  Appearance,  as  I  ought  to  have. 
"  Then  I  will  fiiov/  you  the  Statue,  when  it  is  fi- 
*'  nifhed,  when  it  is  polifhed.  Do  you  think  I  will 
"  fhow  you  a  fupercilious  Countenance?  Heaven 
"  forbid  !  For  Olympian  Jupiter  doth  not  lift  up 
"  his  Brow;  but  keeps  a  Heady  Countenance,  as 
•'  becomes  him  whais  about  to  fay, 

■  Th*  immutable  Decree 

No  Force  canjhake :  what  is^  that  ought  to  he. 

Pope. 

"  Such  will  I  fhow  myfelf  to  you  :  faithful,  mo- 

"  deft,  noble,  tranquil." >''  What,  and  immor- 

"  tal  too,  and  exempt  from  Age  and  Sicknefs  ?" 
No.  But  fickening  and  dying  as  becomes  a  God. 
This  is  in  my  Power  \  this  I  can  do  .  The  other  is 
not  in  my  Pov/er,  nor  can  I  do  it.  Shall  I  fhow  you 
the  [b)  Nerves  of  a  Philofopher  ^ 

"  Wliat  Nerves  are  tliofe?" 

A  Defire  undifappointed  ;  an  Averfion  unincur- 
red  ;  Purfuits  duly  exerted  \  a  careful  Refolution  j 
an  unerring  AiTent.     Thefe  you  fhall  fee. 

CHAP- 

(h)  An  Allufion  to  the  Combatants  in  the  public  Exercifes* 
vho  ufed  to  fhow  their  Shoulders,  Mufcles,  and  Nerves,  as  a 
P^oof  of  their  Strength.  See  B.  I.  c  4.  §.  4.  B.  II,  L  i§. 
§.  5.     B.  III.  c.  22   $.  5. 


Chap.9.       EP  IC  T  ETU  S.  i2f 

CHAPTER    IX. 

That  when  we  are  unable  to  fulfil  what  the  Character 
dJ  a  Man  promifes^  we  ajfume  that  of  a  Pbilofopher, 

§.  I.  TT  is  no  common   Attainment,  merely  to 
JL  fulfil  what  the  Nature  of  Man  promifes. 
For  what  is  Man  ? 

A  rational  and  mortal  Being. 

Well :  from  what  are  we  diflinguifhed  by  Reafon  ? 

From  wild  Beafts. 

From  what  elfe  ? 

From  Sheep,  and  the  like. 

Take  care,  then,  to  do  nothing  like  a  wild  Bead  ; 
otherwife,  you  have  deflroyed  the  Man  ;  you  have 
not  fulfilled  what  your  Nature  promifes.  Take  care 
too,  to  do  nothing  like  Cattle  :  for  thus  likewife 
the  Man  is  deflroyed. 

In  what  do  we  ad  like  Cattle  ? 

When  we  ad  gluttonoufly,  lewdly,  rafhly,  fbr- 
didly,  inconfiderately,  into  what  are  we  funk  ? 

Into  Cattle. 

What  have  we  deflroyed } 

The  rational  Being. 

When  we  behave  contentioufly,  injuriouOy,  paf- 
fionately,  and  violently,  into  what  are  we  funk  ? 

Into  wild  Beafts. 

§.  2.  And  farther  ;  fbme  of  us  are  wild  Beails  of 
a  larger  Size :  others,  little  mifchievous  Vermin ; 
whence  there  is  room  to  fay,  I^t  me  rather  be  eat 
by  a  Lion.  By  all  thefe  Means,  is  deftroyed  what 
the  Nature  of  Man  promifes.  For,  when  is  a  con- 
jundive  Propofition  preferved? 

When  it  fulfils  what  its  Nature  promifes. 

So  that  the  Prefervation  of  flich  a  Propofition 
confifls  in  this ;  that  its  feveral  Parts  are  a  Con- 
jundion  of  Truths. 

'   When 


I2;j  The  Discourses  of        Book II; 

When  is  a  disjundive  Propofition  preferved  ? 

When  it  fulfils  what  its  Nature  promifes. 

When  is  a  Flute,  a  Harp,  a  Horfe,  or  a  Dog, 
preferved  ? 

When  each  fulfils  what  its  Nature  promifes. 

Where  is  the  Wonder  then,  that  Man  fhould  be 
preferved,  and  deflroyed,  in  the  fame  Manner  ? 
All  are  preferved  and  improved  by  Operations  cor- 
lefpondent  [to  their  feveral  Faculties];  as  a  Car- 
penter, by  Building ;  a  Grammarian,  by  Gram- 
mar :  but  if  he  accuftom  himfelf  to  write  ungram- 
matically, his  Art  will  necelTarily  be  fpoiled  and 
deflroyed.  Thus  modeft  Adions  preferve  the  mo- 
defl  Man,  and  immodefl  ones  deftroy  him :  faith- 
ful Adions,  the  faithful  Man  ;  and  the  contrary 
deftroy  him.  On  the  other  hand,  contrary  Ac- 
tions heighten  contrary  Charaders.  Thus  Impu- 
dence, an  impudent  one;  Knavery,  a  knavifh  one; 
Slander,  a  flanderous  one ;  Anger,  an  angry  one ; 
and  unequitable  Dealings,  a  covetous  one. 

§.  3.  For  .this  Realbn,  Philofophers  advife  us, 
not  to  be  contented  with  mere  Learning  ;  but  to 
add  Meditation  likewife,  and  then  PradTice.  For 
we  have  been  long  accuftomed  to  contrary  Adions, 
and  have  pradifed  upon  wrong  Opinions.  If 
therefore,  we  do  not  likewife  habituate  ourfelves 
to  pradife  upon  right  Opinions,  we  fhall  be  nothing 
more  than  Expofitors  of  the  Principles  of  others. 
For  who  among  us  is  not  already  able  to  difcourfe, 
according  to  the  Rules  of  Art,  upon  Good  and  E- 
vil  ?  'That  fome  Things  are  good,  fome  evil^  and  o- 
thers  indifferent :  the  Good,  Virtue^  and  whatever 
partakes  of  Virtue ;  the  Evil,  the  contrary  ;  and  the 
Indifferent,  Riches,  Health,  Reputation  :  and  then, 
if,  while  we  are  laying  all  this,  there  fhould  hap- 
pen fome  more-than-ordi nary  Noife,  or  one  of  the 
By-flanders  fhould  laugh  at  us,  we  are  difconcert- 
ed.     Fbilofopher,  what  is  become  of  what  you  were 

faying  ? 


Chap.  9.         EPICTETUS.  123 

faying  ?   Whence  did   it   proceed  ?    Merely  from 
your  Lips  ?    Why  then,  do  you  pollute  the  Aids 
which  others  have  provided  ?     W^hy  do  you  trifle 
on  the  mofl  important  Subjeds  ?    It  is  one  thing 
to  hoard  up  Provifion  in  a  Store  houfe,  and  another 
to  eat  it.     What   is  eaten  is  concoded,  digefted, 
and  becomes  Nerves,   Flefh,   Bones,  Blood,   Co- 
lour, Breath.     Whatever  is  hoarded  up  is  ready 
indeed,  whenever  you  have  a  Mind   to  fhow  it ; 
but  of  no  further  Ufe  to  you  than  the  mere  No- 
tion, that  you   have  it.     For  what  Difference  is 
there,   whether    you  explain   thefe  Dodrines,    or 
thofe  of  Perfons  of  oppolite  Principles  ?     Sit  down 
now,   and  comment,  according   to   the   Rules  of 
Art,  upon  the  Principles  of  Eptcurus :  and  perhaps 
you  may  comment  more  pradically  than  he  could 
have  done  himfelf    Why  then  do  you  call  your- 
felf  a  Stoic  ?    Why  do  you  ad   a  Jew^  when  you 
are  a  Greek  ?   Do  not  you  fee  on  what  Terms  each 
is  called  a  Jew^  2l  Syrian,  an  Egyptian  ?  And  when 
we  fee   any  one  wavering,  we  are  wont  to   fay. 
This  is  not  a  Jew,  but  ads  one.     But,  when  he  • 
aflumes  the  Sentiments  of  one  who  hath  been  bap- 
tized and  circumdfed  (a),  then  he  both  really  is, 
and  is  called, '  a  Jew.     Thus  we,  falfifying  our  Pro- 
felTion,  are  Jews  in  Name,  but  in  reality  fomething 
elfe.     Our  Sentiments  are  inconfiftent  with  our  Dif- 
courfe  ;  far  from  pradifmg  what  we   teach,  and 
what  we  pride  ourfelves  in  the  Knowledge  of  Thus, 
while  we  are  unable  to  fulfil  what  the  Lharader  of 
a  Man  promifes,    we    affume,  befides,   fo  vafl  a 
Weight  as  that  of  a  Philofopher.     As  if  a  Perfon, 
incapable  of  lifting  ten  Pounds,  fliould  endeavour 
to  heave  the  fame  Stone  with  Ajax, 

CHAP- 

(a)  The  Tranflation  follows  Mr.  Uptons  Conjeaure, 


124  *rhe  Discourses^/        Book  II. 

CHAPTER    X. 

How  we  may  inveftigate  the  Duties  of  Ufe  from  the 
Names  which  we  bear, 

§.  I.  T^  XAMINE  who  you  are.  In  the  firft 
Xli  Place,  a  Man,  that  is,  one  who  hath  no- 
thing fuperior  to  the  Faculty  of  Choice  ;  but  all 
Things  fubjedl  to  this ;  and  this  itfelf  uninflaved, 
and  unfubjeded,  to  any  thing.  Confider  dien,  from 
what  you  are  diftinguiflied  by  Reafon.  You  are 
diftinguifhed  from  wild  Beads:  you  are  diftin- 
guifhed  from  Cattle.  Befides :  you  are  a  Citizen 
of  the  World,  and  a  Part  of  it :  not  a  fubfervient, 
but  a  principal,  Part.  You  are  capable  of  com- 
prehending the  divine  Oeconomy  \  and  of  confi- 
dering  the  Connexions  of  Things.  What  then  doth 
the  Charader  of  a  Citizen  promife  ?  To  hold  no 
private  Interefl ;  to  deliberate  of  nothing  as  a  fepa- 
rate  Individual,  but  like  the  Hand  or  the  Foot ; 
which,  if  they  had  Reafon,  and  comprehended  the 
Conflitution  of  Nature,  would  never  purfue,  or  de- 
fire,  but  with  a  Reference  to  the  Whole.  Hence 
the  Philofophers  righdy  fay,  That,  if  a  wife  and 
good  Man  could  forefee  what  was  to  happen,  he 
would  help  forward  Sicknefs,  and  Death,  and  Mu- 
tilation, to  himfelf;  being  fenfible,  that  thefe 
Things  are  appointed  from  the  Order  of  the  Uni- 
verfe ;  and  that  the  Whole  is  fuperior  to  a  Part, 
and  the  City,  to  the  Citizen.  But,  fmce  we  do  not 
foreknow  what  is  to  happen,  it  becomes  our  Duty 
to  adhere  to  what  is  more  naturally  adapted  to  our 
Option  :  for,  amongfl  other  Things,  we  were  bora 
for  this. 

§.2.  Remember  next,  that  you  are  a  Son  :  and 
what  doth  this  Charader  promife  ?  To  efteem  every 
thing  that  is  his,  as  belonging  to  his  Father :  in 

every 


Chap.  10.      E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  125 

every  Inflance  to  obey  him  :  not  to  revile  him  to 
another  :  not  to  fay  or  do  any  thing  injurious  to  him: 
to  give  way  and  yield  in  every  thing  •,  co-operating 
with  him  to  the  utmoft  of  his  Power. 

§.  3.  After  this,  know  likewife,  that  you  are  a 
Brother  :  and  that  to  this  Charader  it  belongs,  to 
make  Concellions  •,  to  be  eafily  perfuaded  ;  to  ufe 
gentle  Language  :  never  to  claim,  for  yourfelf,  any 
of  the  Things  independent  on  Choice  •,  but  chear- 
fully  to  give  thefe,  that  you  may  have  the  larger 
JShare  of  what  is  dependent  on  it.  For  confider 
what  it  is,  inliead  of  a  Lettuce,  for  Inftance,  or  a 
Chair,  to  procure  for  yourfelf  a  good  Temper  ? 
How  great  an  Advantage  gained ! 

§.  4.  If,  befides  this,  you  are  a  Senator  of  any 
City,  confider  yourfelf  as  a  Senator  :  if  a  Youth,  as 
a  Youth  :  if  an  old  Man,  as  an  old  Man.  For  each 
of  thefe  Names,  if  it  comes  to  be  confidered,  al- 
ways points  out  the  proper  Duties.  But,  if  you 
go  and  revile  your  Brother,  I  tell  you,  you  have 
forgot  who  you  are,  and  what  is  your  Name.  For 
even  if  you  were  a  Smith,  and  made  an  ill  Ufe  of 
the  Hammer,  you  would  have  forgot  the  Smith  : 
and,  if  you  have  forgot  the  Brother,  and  are  be- 
come, inftead  of  a  Brother,  an  Enemy,  do  you 
imagine  you  have  made  no  Change  of  one  Thing 
for  another,  in  that  Cafe  ?  If,  inftead  of  a  Man, 
a  gentle,  focial  Creature,  you  are  become  a  wild 
Beaft,  mifchievous,  infidious,  biting  ;  have  you  lofl 
nothing  ?  But  muft  you  lofe  Money,  in  order  to 
fuffer  Damage ;  and  is  there  no  other  Thing,  the 
Lofs  of  which  endamages  a  Man  ?  If  you  were  to 
part  with  your  Skill  in  Grammar,  or  in  Mulk, 
would  you  think  the  Lofs  of  thefe  a  Damage  ?  And, 
if  you  part  with  Honour,  Decency,  and  Gentlenefs, 
do  you  think  rbat  no  Matter  ?  Yet  the  firft  are  loft 
by  fome  Caufe  external,  and  independent  on  Choice; 
.  but  the  laft,  by  our  own  Fault.  There  is  no  Shame 

either 


I z6  .Tbe  Discourses  of         Book  II. 

either  in  not  (a)  having,  or  in  lofmg  the  one ;  but 
either  not  to  have,  or  to  lofe,  the  other,  is  equally 
fhamefully,  and  reproachful,  and  unhappy.  What 
dorh  the  Pathic  lofe  ?  The  Man.  What  doth  the 
fmooth  effeminate  Fellow  lofe  ?  [b)  Many  other 
Things  }  but  however  the  Man  alfo.  What  doth 
an  Adulterer  lofe  ?  The  modeft,  the  chafte  Cha- 
racter ;  the  Neighbour.  What  doth  an  angry  Per- 
fon  lofe  ?  Something  elfe.  A  Coward  ?  Something 
elfe.  No  one  is  wicked  without  fome  Lofs,  or 
Damage.  Now,  if,  after  all,  you  have  made 
the  Lofs  of  Money  the  only  Damage,  all  thefe 
[Wretches]  are  unhurt  and  undamaged.  Nay,  it 
may  be,  even  Gainers  ;  as,  by  fuch  Pradices,  their 
Money  may  poiiibly  be  increafed.  But  confider  : 
if  you  refer  every  thing  to  Money,  the  Man  who 
lofes  his  Nofe  is  not  hurt.  Yes,  fay  you  ;  he  is 
maimed  in  his  Body.  Well  :  but  doth  he  who 
lofes  his  Smell  itfelf,  lofe  nothing  ?  Is  there,  then, 
no  Faculty  of  the  Soul,  v/hich  he  who  poflefles  it  is 
the  better  for ;  and  he  who  parts  with  it,  the  worfe  ? 

What  Sort  do  you  mean  ? 

Have  we  riot  a  natural  Senfe  of  Honour  ? 

We  have. 

Doth  he,  who  lofes  this,  fuffer  no  Damage  }  Is 
he  deprived  of  nothing  ?  Doth  he  part  with  nothing' 
that  belongs  to  him  ?  Have  we  no  natural  Fidelity  f 
No  natural  AfFedion  ?  No  natural  Difpofition  to 
mutual  Ufefulnefs,  to  mutual  Forbearance  ?  Is  he, 
then,  who  carelefsly  fuffers  himfelf  to  be  damaged 
in  thefe  Refpeds,  unhurt  and  undamaged .? 

§.  5.  What,  then,  fhall  not  I  hurt  him,  who 
hath  hurt  me  ? 

-    Confider  firfl  what  Hurt  is  -,  and  remember  what 

you 

(a J  The  true  Reading  of  the  Greek  is  out  ovk  £X«». 

(6J  It  hath  been  fuggefted  to  me,  that  ^*«t»?v6£i?,  not  ^♦artOsi-, 
is  the  true  Reading;  and  I  have  ventured  fo  to  tranflateit.  See 
L.  III.  c.  I.  p.  352,  353.  of  Mr.  l/;p^<?«'8  Edition. 


Chap.  II.      E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  127 

you  have  heard  from  the  Philofophers.  For,  if 
both  Good  and  Evil  confift  in  Choice,  fee  whether 
what  you  fay,  doth  not  amount  to  this  :  "  vSince 
"  he  hath  hurt  himfelf,  by  injuring  me  ;  fhall  not 
"  I  hurt  myfelf  by  injuring  him  ?"  Why  do  we 
not  make  fome  fuch  Reprefentation  to  ourfelves,  as 
this  ?  Are  we  hurt,  when  any  Detriment  happens 
to  our  bodily  Poflellions ;  and  are  we  not  at  all  hurt, 
when  any  happens  to  our  Faculty  of  Choice  ?  He 
who  is  deceived,  or  hath  done  an  Injury,  hath  no 
Pain  in  his  Head  ;  nor  loles  an  Eye,  a  Leg,  or  an 
Eftate  :  and  we  wilh  for  nothing  beyond  thefe. 
Whether  we  have  a  modefl  and  faithful,  or  a  Ihame- 
lefs  and  unfaithful.  Will  and  Choice,  we  make  not 
the  fmallefl  Difference  ;  except  only  in  the  Schools, 
as  far  as  a  few  Words  go.  Therefore  all  the  Im- 
provement we  make,  reaches  only  to  Words  5  and 
beyond  them  is  abfolutely  nothing. 

C  H  A  P  T  E  R    XI. 

What  the  Beginning  of  Philofophy  is, 

§.  I .  'T^  H  E  Beginning  of  Philofophy,  at  lead  to 
X  fuch  as  enter  upon  it  in  a  proper  Way, 
and  by  the  Door,  is  a  Confcioufnefs  of  our  own 
Weaknefs,  and  Inability,  in  necelFary  Things.  For 
we  came  into  the  World  without  any  natural 
Idea  of  a  right-angled  Triangle  ;  of  a  Diefis,  or  a 
Hemitone,  in  Mufic  :  but  we  learn  each  of  thefe 
Things  by  fome  Inflru6tion  of  Art.  Hence,  they 
who  do  not  underfland  them,  do  not  form  any 
Conceit  of  underflanding  them.  But  who  ever 
came  into  the  World,  without  an  innate  Idea  of 
Good  and  Evil ;  Fair  and  Bafe  ^  Becoming  and  Un- 
becoming ;  Happinefs  and  Mifery  ;  Proper  and 
Improper ;  what  ought  to  be  done,  and  what  not 
to  be  done  i*  Hence  we  all  make  ufe  of  the  Names, 
and  endeavour  to  apply  our  Pre-conceptions  to 
particular  Cafes.     *'  Such  a  one  hath  adted  well ; 

"  not 


128         ne  Discourses    of        Book  II, 

**,  not  well  :  right  j  not  right :  is  unhappy ;  is  hap- 
''  py  :  is  juft ;  is  nnjufl '*  Who  of  us  refrains 
from  thefe  Names  ?  Who  defers  the  Ufe  of  them, 
till  he  had  learnt  it  ;  as  thofe  do,  who  are  ignorant 
of  Lines  aiid  Sounds  ?  The  Reafon  of  this  is,  that 
we  (a)  come  inftruded,  in  fome  degree,  by  Na- 
ture upon  thefe  Subjeds  \  and  from  this  Beginning, 
we  go  on  to  add  Self-conceit.  ''  For  why,  fay  you, 
*'  fhould  not  I  know  what  Fair  and  Bafe  is  ?  Have 
*'  not  I  the  Idea  of  it  ?'  You  have.  "  Do  not  I 
*'  apply  this  Idea  to  Particulars  ?'*  You  do.  "  Do 
**  not  I  apply  it  right,  then  V*  Here  lies  the  whole 
Queftion ;  and  here  arifes  the  Self-conceit.  For, 
beginning  from  thefe  acknowledged  Points,  Men 
proceed  to  what  is  in  Difpute,  by  means  of  their 
unfuitable  Application.  For,  if  they  poflefl  a  right 
Method  of  Application,  what  would  reflrain  them 
from  being  per  fed  ?  Now,  fince  you  think,  that 
you  make  a  fui table  Application,  of  your  Pre-con- 
ceptions,  to  particular  Cafes,  tell  me  whence  you 
derive  this. 

From  its  feeming  fo  to  me. 

But  it  doth  not  feem  fo  to  another :  and  doth 
not  he  too  form  a  Conceit,  that  he  makes  a  right 
Application  ? 

He  doth. 

Is  it  pollible,  then,  that  each  of  you  fhould  ap- 
ply your  Pre-conceptions  right,  on  the  very  Subjects 
about  which  you  have  contradidory  Opinions  ? 

It  is  not. 

Have  you  any  thing  to  fhow  us,  then,  for  this 
Application,  preferable  to  its  feeming  fo  to  you  .? 
And  doth  a  Madman  ad  any  otherwise  than  feems 
to  him,  right  ?  Is  this  then  a  fufficient  Criterion 
to  him  too  ? 

It  is  not. 

Come  therefore,  to  fomething  preferable  toj 
what  feems, 

Whati 

{a)  For  T»yat  in  the  Greeks  the  Senfe  feems  to  require  r,^^. 


Chap.  ir.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  129 

What  is  that  ? 

§.  -2.  The  Beginning  of  Philofbphy  is  this :  The 
being  fenfible  of  the  Difagreement  of  Men  with 
each  other  :  an  Inquiry  into  the  Caufe  of  this 
Difagreement ;  and  a  Difapprobation,  and  Diflruil 
of  what  merely  feems  :  a  certain  Examination  into 
what  feems,  whether  it  feem  rightly  :  and  an  In- 
vention of  fbme  Rule,  like  a  Balance,  for  the  De- 
termination of  Weights ;  like  a  Square,  for  flrait 
and  crooked. 

Is  this  the  Beginning  of  Philofophy,  that  all 
Things,  which  feem  right  to  all  Perfons,  are 
{0} 

Why ;  is  it  poflible,  that  Contradidions  can  be 
right  ? 

Well  then,  not  all  Things  ;  but  all  that  feem 
fo  to  us. 

And  why  more  to  you^  than  to  the  Syrians y  or 
Egyptians  ?.Than  to  me,  or  to  any  other  Man? 

Not  at  all  more. 

§.  3.  Therefore  [merely]  what  Jeems  to  each 
Man,  is  not  fufficient  to  determine  the  Reality  of 
a  Thing.  For  even  in  Weights  or  Meafures  we 
are  not  fatisfied  with  the  bare  Appearance  ;  but 
for  every  thing  we  find  fome  Rule.  And  is  there, 
in  the  prefent  Cafe  then,  no  Rule,  preferable  to 
what  feems  ?  Is  it  polTible,  that  what  is  of  the 
greatefl  NecefTity  in  human  Life,  (hould  be  left 
incapable  of  Determination  and  Difcovery  ? 

There  is,  then,  fome  Rule. 

And  why  do  we  not  feek,  and  dilcover  it ;  and, 
when  we  have  difcovered,  make  ule  of  it,  without 
fail,  ever  after,  {o  as  not  even  to  move  a  Finger, 
without  it.  For  this,  I  conceive,  is  what,  when 
found,  will  cure  (b)  thofe  of  their  Madnefs,  who 
make  ufe  of  no  other  Meafure,  but  their  own 
perverted  Way  of  Thinking.     That  afterwards, 

{h)  The  Senfe  requires,  that  the  Reading  fhould  be  mta}^.»C' 
rot  «»,  or  «7ra^^«|e^. 

K  begin- 


jSp  Tie  Discourses  of  Book  H 

ning  from  certain  known  and  determinate  Points,' 
we  may  make   ufe   of   Preconceptions,   properly 
applied  to  Particulars.     What  is  the  Subjed  that 
falls  under  our  Inquiry  ? 
Pleafure. 

Bring  it  to  the  Rule.     Throw  it  into  the  Scalq. 
Mud  Good  be  fomething  in    which  it  is  fit  to 
confide }  and  to  which  we  may  truft  ? 
Yes. 

Is  it  fit  to  trufl  to  any  thing  unfleady .? 
No. 

Is  Pleafure  then,  a  fleady  Thing  ? 
No. 

Take  it,  then,  and  throw  it  out  of  the  Scale, 
and  drive  it  far  diflant  from  the  Place  of  good 
Things.  But,  if  you  are  not  quick-fighted,  and 
one  Balance  is  infufficient,  bring  another.  Is  it 
fit  to  be  elated  by  Good  ? 
Yes. 

Is  it  fit,  then,  to  be  elated  by  a  prefent  Plea- 
fure ?  See  that  you  do  not  fay  it  is  ;  otherwife  I 
fhall  not  think  you  fo  much  as  worthy  to  ufe  a 
Scale.  Thus  are  Things  judged,  and  weighed, 
when  we  have  the  Rules  ready.  This  is  the 
Part  of  Philofophy,  To  examine,  and  fix  the  Rules: 
and  to  make  ufe  of  them,  when  they  are  known, 
is  the  Bufinefs  of  a  wife  and  good  Man. 

CHAPTER    XII. 

Of  DifpUtatiotu 

§•  i.TT 7 H AT  Things  are  to  be  learn'd,  in  or- 
W  der  to  the  right  Ufe  of  Reafon,  the  Phi- 
lofophers  of  our  Sed  have  accurately  taught  :  but 
we  are  altogether  unpradifed  in  the  due  Applica- 
tion of  them.  Only  give  any  of  us,  that  you 
pieafe,  fome  illiterate  Perfon,  for  an  Antagonift, 
and  he  will  not  find  out,  how  to  treat  him.     But 

when 


Chap.>2.      EPICTETUS.  131 

when  he  hath  a  Httle  moved  the  Man,  if  he  hap- 
pens to  anfwer  befide  the  Purpofe,  he  knows  not 
how  to  deal  with  him  any  further  -,  but  either 
reviles,  or  laughs  at  him ;  and  fays,  "  He  is  an 
*'  illiterate  Fellow  :  there  is  no  making  any  thing 
*'  of  him.'*  Yet  a  Guide,  when  he  perceives  his 
Charge  going  out  of  the  Way,  doth  not  revile^ 
and  ridicule,  and  then  leave  him ;  but  leads  him 
into  the  right  Path.  Do  you  alfb  Ihow  your  An- 
tagonifl  the  Truth,  and  you  will  fee^  that  he  will 
follow.  But  till  you  do  fhow  it,  do  not  ridicule 
him  ;  but  rather  be  fenfible  of  your  own  Incapa- 
city. 

§.  2.  How  then,  did  Socrates  life  to  a6l }  Hd 
obliged  his  Antagonift  himfelf  to  bear  Teflimony 
to  him  ;  and  wanted  no  other  Witnefs.  Hence 
he  might  well  fay,  "  I  give  up  all  the  reft ;  and 
*'  am  always  fatisfied  with  the  Teftimony  of  my 
**  Opponent  :  and  I  call  in  no  one  to  vote,  but  my 
*'  Antagonift  alone."  For  he  rendered  the  Argu- 
ments drawn  from  natural  Notions  fo  clear,  that 
'Cvery  One  faw,  and  avoided  the  Contradiction. — 

"  Doth  an  envious  Man  rejoice  V- "  By  no 

*'  means.  He  rather  grieves."  (This  he  moved 
him  to  fay,  by  propofmg  the  contrary.) —  "  Well : 
"  and    do   you    think  Envy    to  be  a  Grief,    for 

"  Mifery?" And  who  ever  envied  Mifery  ? » 

**  ^Therefore    he    makes    the    other     fay, '   that 

*'  Envy    is     a    Grief,    for  Happinefs.) Doth 

*'  any  one  envy  thofe  who  are  nothing  to  him.^'* 
— -''  No,  furely.'*  Having  thus  drawn  [from 
his  Opponent]  a  full  and  diftin6l  Idea,  he  theri 
left  that  Point  ;  and  doth  not  fay,  "  Define 
*'  to  me  what  Envy  is  :'*  and  after  he  had  defin- 
ed it ;  "  You  have  defined  it  v/rong  •,  for  the  De- 
"  finition  doth  not  reciprocate  to  the  Thing  defin- 
"  ed."  Technical  Terms,  and  therefore  grievous, 
and  fcarcely  to  be  made  intelligible  to  the  Illiterate, 
which  yet  fVcy  it  feems,  cannot  part  with.  But 
K  2  we 


132  W<?  Discourses  of         Book  IL 

we  have  no  Capacity  at  all  to  move  them,  by  fuch 
Arguments,  as  might  induce  them,  in  following 
the  Track  of  the  Appearances  in  their  own  Minds, 
to  allow,  or  difprove,  any  Point  And,  from  a 
Confcioufnefs  of  this  Incapacity,  thofe  among  us, 
who  have  any  Modefty,  give  the  Matter  intirely 
up  :  but  the  greater  Part,  rafhly  entering  upon 
thefe  Debates,  mutually  confound,  and  are  con- 
founded ;  and,  at  lafl,  reviling,  and  reviled,  walk 
off  Whereas  it  was  the  principal  and  moll  pecu- 
liar Charaderiftic  of  .S<5rr^/^5,  never  to  be  provoked, 
in  a  Difpute  ;  nor  to  throw  out  any  reviling  or  in- 
jurious Expreflion  :  but  to  bear  patiently  with  thofe 
who  reviled  him  ;  and  to  put  an  End  to  the  Con- 
troverfy.  If  you  would  know,  how  great  Abili- 
ties he  had  in  this  particular,  read  Xenophon's  Ban- 
quet^ and  you  will  fee,  how  many  Controverfies  he 
ended.  Hence,  even  among  the  Poets,  that  Per- 
fon  is  juflly  mentioned  with  the  higheft  Com- 
mendation, 

Whofe  lenient  Art  attentive  Crowds  await ^ 
^ oft  ill  the  furious  Clamours  of  Debate. 

Hesiod. 

But  what  then  ?  This  is  no  very  fafe  Affair  now, 
and  efpecially  at  Rome.  For  he  who  doth  it,  muft 
not  do  it  in  a  Corner  ;  but  go  to  fome  rich  Confular 
Senator,  for  Inflance,'  and  queftion  him.  "  Pray, 
**  Sir,  can  you  tell  me  to  whom  you  intrufl  your 

*'  Horfes  ?*' ''  Yes,  certainly/* ''  Is  it  then, 

"  to  any  one  indifferently,    though  he  be  igno- 

"  rant  of  Horfemanrtiip  ?'* -''  By  no  means." 

''  To  v/hom  do  you  intrufl  your  Gold,  or  your 

*'  Silver,  or  your  Clothes  ?" "  Not  to  any  one 

indifferently." '^  And  did  you  ever  confider, 

to  whom  you  committed  the  Care  of  your  Body?" 

— ''  Yes,  furely." "  To  one  fkilled  in  Exer- 

cifc,    or   Medicine,    I  fuppofe." ''  Without 

''  doubt." 


4( 


Chap.  13.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  i^^ 

"  doubt." "  Are    thefe    Things    your    chief 

^^  Good  ;  or  are  you  pofTefs'd  of  fome  thing  better 

"  than  all  of  them  ?" *'  What  do  you  mean  ?'' 

"  Something  which  makes  ufe  of  thefe  ;  and 

''  proves,  and  deliberates  about  each  of  them  ?" 

"  What  then,  do  you  mean  the  Soul  ?" "  You 

'^  have  guefs'd  right ;  for  indeed  I  do  mean  that.'* 

"  I  do  really  think  it  a  much  better  PodefTion 

"  than  all  the  reil." Can  you  (liow  us,  then,  in 

*'  what  manner  you  have  taken  care  of  this  Soul  ? 
"  For  it  is  not  probable,  that  a  Perfon  of  your  Wif- 
"  dom,  and  approved  Charader  in  the  State,  Ihould 
"  careleily  fuffer  the  mofl  excellent  Thing  that  be- 

"  longs  to  you,  to  be  negledled,  and  loft." • 

"  no  certainly." "  But  do  you  take  care  of  it 

^'  yourfelf  .^  And  is  it  by  the  Inftrudtions  of  another, 
''  or  by  your  own  Difcovery  [how  it  ought  to  be 

*'  done  .?]" Here,   now,    comes  the  Danger, 

that  he  may  firft  fay,  Pray,  good  Sir,  what  Bufmefs 
is  that  of  yours  ?  What  are  you  to  me  ?  Then,  if 
you  perfift  to  trouble  him,  he  may  lift  up  his  Hand, 
and  give  you  a  Box  on  the  Ear.  I  myfelf  was  once 
a  great  Admirer  of  this  Method  of  Inftrudion,  till 
I  fell  into  fuch  kind  of  Adventures. 

CHAPTER    XIII/ 

Of  Sdkitude. 

§.  i."\X7HEN  I  fee  any  one  fblicitous,  I  fay, 
W  What  doth  this  Man  mean  ?  Unlefs  he 
wanted  fomething  or  other,  not  in  his  own  Power, 
how  could  he  flill  be  folicitous  }  A  Mufician,  for 
Inftanc€,  feels  no  Solicitude,  while  he  is  finging  by 
himfelf :  but  when  he  appears  upon  the  Stage  he 
doth  ;  even  if  his  Voice  be  ever  fo  good,  or  he  plays 
ever  fo  well.  For  what  he  wants  is  not  only  to  fing 
well,  but  likewife  to  gain  Applaufe.     But  this  is 

K  3  not 


1 34  ^^^  Discourses  of  Book  U, 

not,  in  his  own  Power.  In  fliort,  where  his  Skill 
lies,  there  is  his  Courage.  (Bring  any  ignorant  Per- 
fon,  and  he  doth  not  mind  him.)  But  in  the  Point 
which  he  neither  underilands,  nor  hath  fludied, 
there  he  is  folicitous. 

What  Point  is  that  ? 

He  doth  not  underfland  what  a  Multitude  is  5 
nor  what  the  Applaufe  of  a  Multitude.  He  hath 
learnt,  indeed,  how  to  ftrike  Bafs  and  Treble  ;  but 
what  the  Applaufe  of  the  many  is,  and  what  Force 
it^  hath  in  life,  he  neither  underflands,  nor  hath 
iludied.  Hence  he  mull  n^ceflarily  tremble,  and 
turn  pale.  I  cannot,  indeed,  fay,  that  a  Man  is 
no  Mufician,  when  i  fee  him  afraid  ^  but  I  can  fay 
fomethingeife  ;  and  that  not  one,  but  many  Things. 
And,  firft  of  all,  I  call  him  a  Stranger  ;  and  fay. 
This  Man  doth  not  know  in  what  Country  he  is : 
and  though  he  hath  lived  here  fo  long, .  he  is  igno- 
rant of  the  Laws  and  Cufloms  of  the  State  ;  and 
what  is  permitted,  and  what  not :  nor  hath  he  ever 
confulted  any  Lawyer,  who  might  tell  and  explain 
to  him  the  Law^s.  Yet  no  Man  writes  a  Will, 
without  knowing  how  it  ought  to  be  written, 
or  confulting  fome  one  who  doth  know  :  nor  doth 
he  rafhly  fign  a  Bond,  or  give  Security.  But  he 
ufes  his  Defire  and  Averfion,  exerts  his  Purfuits, 
Intentions,  and  Refolutions,  without  confulting  any 
Lawyer  about  the  Matter. 

How  do  you  mean,  without  a  Lawyer  f 
.  He  knows  not,  that  he  chufes  v/hat  is  not  allow- 
ed him  •,  and  doth  not  chufe  what  is  neceffary :  and 
he  knows  not  what  is  his  own,  and  w^hat  belongs  to 
others  :  for  if  he  did  know,  he  would  never  be 
hindered  -,  would  never  be  retrained  \  would  never 
be  folicitous. 

How  fo } 

Why :  doth  any  one  fear  Things  that  are  not 
Evils? 

No. 

Doth 


Chap.  13.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  155 

Doth  any  one  fear  Things,  that  are  Evils  in- 
deed,  but  which  it  is  in  his  own  Power  to  pre- 
vent ? 

No,  furely. 

§.  2.  If,  then,  the  Things  independent  on  Choice, 
are  neither  good  nor  evil ;  and  all  that  do  depend 
on  Choice,  are  in  our  own  Power,  and  can  neither 
be  taken  away  from  us,  or  given  to  us,  unlefs  we 
pleafe  ;  what  room  is  there  left  for  Solicitude  ?  But 
we  are  folicitous  about  this  paultry  Body,  or  Eflate, 
of  ours ;  or  about  the  Determination  o^defar  ;  and 
not  at  all  about  any  thing  internal.  Are  we  ever  fo- 
licitous not  to  take  up  a  falfe  Opinion  ?  No  :  for 
this  is  in  our  own  Power.  Or  not  to  exert  our  Pur- 
fiiits,  contrary  to  Nature  ?  No :  nor  this  neither. 
When,  therefore,  you  fee  any  one  pale  with  Solici- 
tude, as  the  Phyfician  pronounces  from  the  Com- 
plexion, that  fuch  a  Patient  is  difordered  in  the 
Spleen,  another  in  the  Liver ;  fo  do  you  likewife 
fay,  this  Man  is  difordered  in  his  Defires  and  Aver- 
fions  :  he  cannot  walk  fteady  ;  he  is  in  a  Fermen- 
tation. For  nothing  elfe  changes  the  Complexion, 
or  caufes  a  Trembling,  or  fets  the  Teeth  a  chatter- 
ing. 

No  Force^  no  Firmnefsy  the  pale  Coward  /hows ; 
He  fhifts  his  Place  \  his  Colour  comes  and  goes, 
Ttrror  and  Death  in  his  wild  Eye-halls  flare  -^ 
With  chattering  T.eeth  heftandsy  and  fliffend  Hair. 

Pope's  Homer. 

Therefore  (a)  Zeno,  when  he  was  to  meet  /^«//- 
K  4  gonus^ 

(a)  A  tigonus  GonataSy  King  of  Macedon^  had  fo  great  an 
Efteem  for  Zmo^  that  he  often  took  a  Journey  to  Athens  to  v.ifit 
him  ;  and  endeavoured,  by  magnificent  Promifes,  to  allure  him 
to  his  Court ;  but  without  Succefs.  He  gave  it  as  a  Reafon,  for 
the  diftinguiftied  Regard  which  he  paid  him,  that,  though  he 
had  made  him  many,  and  very  confidcrable  Ofters,  ZeM  ncvw 
appeared  either  mean  or  infolent. 


136  ^he  DiscotTRSEs  of        Book  II. 

gomis^  felt  no  Solicitude.  For  over  wh^t  he  admir- 
ed, Antigonus  had  no  Power  ;  and  thofe  Things  oi 
which  he  had  the  Power,  Zeno  did  not  regard.  But 
Aniigonus  felt  a  Solicitude  when  he  was  to  meet  Ze- 
no ;  and  with  Reafon  :  for  he  was  defirous  to  pleafe 
him  ;  and  this  was  external.  But  Zeno  was  not  de- 
firous to  pleafe  Antigonus  :  for  no  one  fkilful  in  any 
Art,  is  defirous  to  pleafe  a  Perfon  unikilful. 

I  am  defirous  [fays  one  of  his  Scholars]  to  pleafe 
Ton. 

For  what  ?  Do  you  know  the  Rules,  by  which 
one  Man  judges  of  another  >  Have  you  flwdied  to 
underfland  what  a  good,  and  what  a  bad  Man  is ; 
end  how  each  becomes  fuch  ?  Why  then  are  not 
you  yourfelf  a  good  Man  ; 

On  \\^hat  Account  am  I  not  ? 

Becaufe  no  good  Man  laments,  nor  fighs,  nor 
groans  :  no  good  Man  turns  pale,  and  trembles^ 
and  fays,  *'  How  v/ill  fuch  a  one  receive  me  ;  how 

*'  will  he  hear  me  ?'* As  he  thinks  fit,  Wretch. 

Why  do  you  trouble  yourfelf  about  what  belongs  to 
others  ?  Is  it  not  his  Fault,  if  he  receives  you  ill  ? 

Yes,  furely. 

And  can  one  Perfon  be  in  fault,  and  another  the 
Sufferer  (b)  ? 

No. 

Why  then  are  you  fblicitous,  about  what  belongs 
to  others  ? 

.  Well :  but  I  am  felicitous  how  I  fliali  (peak  to 
him. 

What  then,  cannot  you  fpeak  to  him  as  you  will .? 

But  I  am  afraid  I  fhall  be  difconcerted. 

If  you  were  going  to  write  the  Name  of  Diofi^ 
fhould  you  be  afraid  of  being  difconcerted. 

By  no  means.  .  What 

(h)  This  is  a  Stoic  Extravagance.  The  very  Thing  that  con- 
ftitutes  the  Fault  of  the  one  in  this^Cafe  is,  that  he  makes  the 
other  fufFer.  However,  if,  inflead  of  vainly  afFedling  Infenfi- 
bility,  we  extend  our  View,  to  the  future  Rewards  of  thofe  who 
bear  ill  Treatment  as  they  ought,  tjie  Pofitioa  is  true  and  ufetul. 


Chap.  13.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  137 

What  is  the  Reafon  ?  Is  it  not  becaufe  you  have 
fludied  how  to  write  ? 
Yes. 

And  if  you  were  going  to  read,  would  it  not  be 
exadlly  the  fame  ? 
Exadly. 

What  is  the  Reafon  ? 

Becaufe  every  Art  hath  a  certain  AlTurance  and 
Confidence,  in  the  Subjects  that  belong  to  it. 

Have  you  not  fludied  then,  how  to  Tpeak  .?  And 
what  elfe  did  you  ftudy  at  School  ? 

Syllogifms,  and  convertible  Propofitions. 
For  what  Purpofe  ?  Was  it  not  in  order  to  talk 
properly  ?  And  what  is  that,  but  to  talk  feafonably, 
and  cautioufly,  and  intelligibly,  and  without  Flut- 
ter and  Hefi ration  ;  and,  in  confequence  of  all  this, 
with  Courage  ? 
Very  true. 

When,  therefore,  you  go  into  the  Field  on  Horfe- 
back,.  are  you  felicitous  about  one,  who  is  here  now 
on  Foot .?  Solicitous  in  a  Point  which  you  have  flu- 
died, and  another  hath  not  P 

Ay,  but  the  Perfon  [with  whom  I  am  to  talk] 
hath  Power  to  kill  me. 

Then  fpeak  the  Truth,  pitiful  Wretch,  and  do 
not  be  arrogant ;  nor  take  the  Philofopher  upon 
you  ;  nor  conceal  from  yourfelf  who  are  your  Ma- 
flers  :  but  while  you  may  thus  be  laid  hold  on  by 
the  Body,  follow  every  one  who  is  flronger  than 
you.  Socrates^  indeed,  had  fludied  how  to  fpeak, 
who  talked  in  flich  a  manner  to  Tyrants,  and  Jud- 
ges, and  in  a  Prifon.    Diogenes  (c)  had  fludied  how 

to 

(c)  When  Diogenes  was  failing  to  j£gina,  he  was  taken  by 
Pirates,  and  carried  to  Crete  ;  and  there  fet  to  Sale.  Being 
ai1:ed  what  he  could  do  ,•  he  anlwered,  Go<vern  Men  :  and  point- 
ing to  a  well-drefs'd  Corinthian.,  who  was  palling  by.  Sell  me 
(laid  he)  to  him  iforheivants  a  Mafrer.  The  Ccrinthiarty  whofe 
Name  was  XeniadeSy  bought  him,  and  appointed  him  the  Tu- 
tor to  his  Children  ;   and  Diogems  perfeafy  well  difcharged  his 


1^^  Tbe  Discourses    0/         Book  II. 

to  fpcak,  who  talked  in  fuch  a  manner  to  Alex- 
ander^ to  Pbilip^  to  the  Pirates,  to  the  Perfon  who 
bought  him.  This  belonged  to  them  who  had 
ftudied  the  Point  ;  who  had  Courage.  But  do 
you  walk  off  about  your  own  Affairs,  and  never 
flir  from  them.  Retire  into  fome  Corner,  and 
there  fit  and  weave  Syllogifms,  and  propofe  thera 
to  others.     For  there  is  not,  in  you,  one  able 

To  rule  the  f acred  Citadel  within, 

CHAPTER    XIV. 

Concerning  N  a  s  o. 

5.  I. TT  7  HEN  a  certain  Roman  came  to  him 
W  with  his  Son,  and  had  heard  one  Leflbn, 
This,  faid  Epi^etus^  is  the  Method  of  Teaching  ; 
and  ftopt.  When  the  other  defired  him  to  go 
on  \  Every  Art,  anfwered  he,  is  tedious,  when  it 
is  delivered  to  a  Perfon  ignorant  and  unfkilful  in  it. 
Indeed  the  Things  performed  by  the  common  Arts, 
quickly  difcover  the  Ufe  for  which  they  were  made ; 
and  mofl  of  them  have  fomething  engaging  and 
agreeable.  Thus  the  Trade  of  a  Shoemaker,  if 
one  would  fland  by,  and  endeavour  to  compre- 
hend it,  is  an  unpleafant  Thing  :  but  the  Shoe  is 
ufeful  ;  and  befides,  not  difagreeable  to  fee.  The 
Trade  of  a  Smith  is  extremely  uneafy  to  an  ig^ 
norant  Perfon  that  chances  to  be  prefent  {a)  : 
but  the  Work  fhows  the  Ufefulnefs  of  the  Art. 
Yon  will  fee  this  much  more  flrongly  in  Mufic : 
for  if  you  fland  by,  while  a  Perfon  is  learning, 
it  will  appear  to  you  of  all  Sciences  the  mofl 
unpleafant  :  but  the  Effedts  are  agreeable  and 
delightful,  even  to  thofe  who  do  not  underfl^nd 
it. 

(a)    The  Tranfiation  follows  Mr.   Upton,       UctfetrvyxP^' 

m7^. 

^i  2. 


Chap.  14.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  139 

§.  2.  Now  here,  we  imagine  it  to  be  the  Work 
of  one  who  ftiidies  Philofophy,  to  adapt  his  Will  to 
whatever  happens.  So  that  none  of  the  Things 
which  happen,  may  happen  againft  our  Inclination ; 
nor  thofe  which  do  not  happen,  be  wifhed  for  by 
us.^  Hence  they  who  have  fettled  this  Point,  have 
it  in  their  Power  never  to  be  difappointed  of  their 
Defire,  or  incur  their  Averfion  ;  but  to  lead  a  Life 
exempt  from  Sorrow,  Fear,  and  Perturbation,  in 
themfelves ;  and  in  Society,  preferving  all  the  na- 
tural and  adventitious  Relations  of  a  Son,  a  Father 
a  Brother,  a  Citizen,  a  Hufband,  a  Wife,  a  Neigh- 
bour, a  Fellow-Traveller,  a  Ruler,  or  a  Subjedl. 
Something  like  this,  is  what  we  imagine  to  be  the 
Work  of  a  Philofopher.  It  remains  to  inquire,  how 
It  is  to  be  effeded.  Now  we  (ee,  that  a  Carpenter, 
by  learning  certain  Things,  becomes  a  Carpenter  i 
and  a  Pilot,  by  learning  certain  Things,  becomes 
a  Pilot.  Probably,  then,  it  is  not  fufficient,  in  the 
prefent  Cafe,  merely  to  be  willing  to  be  wife  and 
good  ;  but  it  is  moreover  neceflary  that  certain 
Things  fhould  be  learned.  What  thefe  Things  are 
is  the  Qiieftion.  The  Philofophers  fay,  that  we 
are  firfl  to  learn  that  there  is  a  God  ;  and  that  his 
Providence  direds  the  whole ;  and  that  it  is  impof-. 
fible  to  conceal  from  him,  not  only  our  Adions, 
but  even  our  Thoughts  and  Emotions.  W^e  are 
next  to  learn,  what  the  Gods  are :  for  fuch  as  they 
are  found  to  be,  fuch  muft  be,  who  would  pleafe 
and  obey  them,  to  the  utmofl  of  his  Power,  endea- 
vour to  be.  If  the  Deity  is  faithful,  he  too  muft 
be  faithful  :  if  free,  beneficent,  and  exalted,  he 
mult  be  free,  beneficent,  and  exalted,  likewife ; 
and,  in  all  his  Words  and  Adions,  behave  as  an 
Imitator  of  God. 

§.  J.  Whence,  then,  are  we  to  begin .? 

If  you  will  give  me  Leave,  I  will  tell  you.  It  is 
neceflary,  m  the  firfl  place,  that  you  Ihould  under, 
jland  Words. 

So 


140  ^^c  Discourses  of         Book  11- 

So  then !  I  do  not  underfland  them  now  ? 

No.  You  do  not. 

How  is  it,  then,  that  I  ufe  them  ? 

Juft  as  the  Illiterate  do  written  Exprefiions  •,  and 
Brutes,  the  Appearances  of  Things.  For  Ufe  is 
one  Thing,  and  Underftanding  another.  But  if 
you  think  you  underfland  them,  bring  whatever 
Word  you  pleafe,  and  let  us  fee  whether  we  un- 
deriland  it,  or  not. 

Well :  but  it  is  a  grievous  Thing  for  a  Man  to  be 
confuted  who  is  grown  old ;  and  perhaps  arrived, 
through  a  regular  Courfe  of  Military  Service,  to  the 
Dignity  of  a  Senator. 

I  know  it  very  well :  for  you  now  come  to^  me,  as 
if  you  wanted  nothing.  And  how  can  it  enter  into 
your  Imagination,  that  there  fhould  be  any  thing  in 
which  you  are  defedlive  ?  You  are  rich  ;  and  per- 
haps have  a  Wife  and  Children,  and  a  great  Num- 
ber of  Domeflics.  Cafar  takes  Notice  of  you  :  you 
have  many  Friends  at  Rome  :  you  render  to  all  their 
Dues :  you  know  how  to  requite  a  Favour,  and  re- 
venge an  Injury.  In  what  are  you  deficient?  Suppofe 
then,  1  fhould  prove  to  you,  that  you  are  deficient, 
in  what  is  mofl  neceflary  and  im.portant  to  Happi- 
nefs;  and  that  hitherto  you  have  taken  care  of 
every  Thing,  rather  than  your  Duty ;  and,  to  com- 
plete all,  that  you  underfland  neither  what  God  or 
Man,  or  Good  or  Evil,  means  ?  That  you  are 
ignorant  of  all  the  reft,  perhaps,  you  may  bear  to 
be  told  :^  but  if  I  prove  to  you,  that  you  are  igno- 
rant even  of  ycurfelf^  how  will  you  bear  with  me, 
and  how  will  you  have  Patience  to  ftay  and  be 
convinced  ?  Not  at  all.  You  will  immediately  be 
offended,  and  go  av/ay.  And  -yet  what  Injury  have 
I  done  you ;  unlefs  a  Looking-Glafs  injures  a  Per- 
fon  not  haridfbme,  when  it  fhows  him  to  himfelf, 
fuch'as.he  is  ^  Or  unlefs  a  Phyfician  can  be  thought 
to  aflront  his  Patient,  when  he  fays  to  him  ;  ''  Do 
*'  you  think,  Sir,  that  you  ail  nothing?    You  have 

*'  a  Fever. 


Chap.  14,       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  141 

*'  a  Fever.  Eat  no  Meat  To-day,  and  drink  Wa- 
"  ter."  Nobody  cries  out  here,  "  What  an  into 
*'  lerable  Affront!'*  But,  if  you  fay  to  any  one. 
Your  Defires  are  in  a  Fermentation  •,  your  Averfi- 
6ns  are  low ;  your  Intentions,  contradidlory  ;  your 
Purfuits,  not  conformable  to  Nature ;  your  Opini- 
ons, rafh,  and  miftaken  •,  he  prefently  goes  away, 
and  complains,  he  is  affronted. 

§.  4,  This  is  the  Nature  of  our  Proceedings.  As 
in  a  crowded  Fair,  the  Horfes  and  Cattle  are 
brought  to  be  fold,  and  the  greatell  Part  of  Men 
come  either  to  buy  or  fell ;  but  there  are  a  few, 
who  come  only  to  look  at  the  Fair,  and  inquire. 
How  it  is  carried  on  ;  and  why  in  that  Manner  ; 
and  who  appointed  it  •,  and  for  whatPurpofe.  Thus, 
in  the  Fair  of  the  World,  fome,  like  Cattle,  trou- 
ble themfelves  about  nothing  but  Fodder.  For,  as 
to  all  you,  who  bufy  yourfelves  about  ProfelTions, 
and  Farms,  and  Domeflics,  and  public  Pofls,  thefe 
Things  are  nothing  elfe  but  mere  Fodder.  But 
there  are  fbme  few  Men,  among  the  Crowd,  who 
are  fond  of  looking  on,  and  confidering :  *' What 
"  then,  after  all,  is  the  World  ?  Who  governs  it  ? 
"  Hath  it  no  Governor.^  How  is  it  poflible,  when 
"  neither  a  City  nor  a  Houfe  can  remain  ever  fo 
"  fhort  a  Time,  without  fbme  one  to  govern  and 
*'  take  care  of  it,  that  this  vad  and  beautiful  SyP 
**  tem  fhould  be  adminiftered,  in  a  fortuitous  and 
"  diforderly  Manner  ?  Is  there  then  a  Governor  ■? 
''  What  fort  of  one  is  he?  And  how  doth  he  go- 
"  vern ;  and  what  are  we,  who  are  under  him  ? 
"  And  for  what  defigned .?  Have  we  fome  Con- 
"  ncxion  and  Relation  to  him;  or  none  .?"  In 
this  manner  are  the  Few  affeded ;  and  apply  them- 
felves only  to  view  the  Fair,  and  then  depart. 
Well :  and  are  they  laughed  at  by  the  Multitude  ? 
Why,  fo  are  the  Lookers-on,  by  the  Buyers  and 
Sellers;  and,  if  the  Cattle  had  any  Apprehenfion, 
they  too  would  laugh  at  fuch,  as  admired  any  thing 
but  Fodder.  CHAP- 


14^  The  Discourses  of       BookJf. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

Concerning  Thofe  who  ohfiinately  perfevere  in  what" 
ever  they  have  determined^ 

§.  I.  QOME,  when  they  hear  fuch  Difcotirfes 
fc3  as  thefe,  That  we  ought  to  he  fteady  \  that 
Choice  is  by  Nature^  free  and  uncompelled  -,  and  that 
all  elfe  is  liable  to  Re/Iraint^  Compuljion,  Slavery^  and 
belongs  to  ethers  ;  imagine,  that  they  mud  remain 
immutably  fixed  to  every  thing  which  they  have 
determined.  But  it  is  firft  necelFary,  that  the  De- 
termination fhould  be  a  found  one.  I  agree,  that 
there  fhould  be  a  Tenfion  of  the  Nerves,  in  the 
Body ;  but  iuch  as  appears  in  a  healthy,  an  ath- 
letic Body  :  for,  if  you  fhow  me,  that  you  have 
the  Tenfion  of  a  Lunatic,  and  value  yourfelf  upon 
that,  I  will  fay  to  you,  Get  yourfelf  to  a  Phyfician,- 
Man  :  this  is  not  a  Tenfion  of  the  Nerves  \  but  a 
Relaxation,  of  another  kind.  Such  is  the  Diileiti- 
per  of  Mind,  in  thofe  who  hear  thefe  Difcourfes  in 
a  wrong  Manner:  like  an  Acquaintance  of  mine, 
who,  for  noReafon,  had  determined  to  ftarve  him- 
lelf  to  Death.  I  went  the  third  Day,  and  inquired 
what  was  the  Matter.  He  anfwered,  "  I  am  de- 
"  termined."— —  Well:  but  what  is  your  Mo- 
tive? For,  if  your  Determination  be  right,  we  will 
flay,  and  affift  your  Departure :  but,  if  unreafona- 
ble,  change  it.——"  we  ought  to  keep  our  De- 
terminations."  What    do  you   mean,    Sir.^ 

Not  all ;  but  fuch  as  are  right.  *  Elfe,  if  you  fhould 
juft  now  take  it  into  your  Head,  that  it  is  Night,  if 
you  think  fit,  do  not  change ;  but  perfift,  and  fay, 
JVe  ought  to  keep  our  Determinations,  What  do  you 
mean.  Sir  .?  Not  all.  Why  do  not  you  begin,  by 
firfl  laying  the  Foundation,  in  an  Inquiry,  whether 
your  Determination  be  a  found  one,  or  not ;  and 

then 


Chap.  15.      E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  14J 

and  then  build  your  Firmnefs  and  Conftancy,  nport 
it.  For,  if  you  lay  a  rotten  and  crazy  Foundation, 
you  muft  not  build  {a) :  and  the  greater  and  more 
weighty  the  Superftrudlure  is,  the  fooner  will  it  fall. 
Without  any  Reafon,  you  are  withdrawing  from  us, 
out  of  Life,  a  Friend,  a  Companion,  a  Fellow* 
Citizen  both  of  the  fame  greater  (^)^  and  leffer 
City  :  and  while  you  are  committing  Murder,  and 
deftroying  an  innocent  Perfon,  you  fay,  We  muji 
keep  our  Determinations.  Suppofe,  by  any  means, 
it  fhould  ever  come  into  your  Head  to  kill  me  \  muft 
you  keep  fuch  a  Determination  ? 

§,  2w  With  Difficulty  this  Perfon  was,  however, 
at  jaft  convinced :  but  there  are  fome  at  prefent, 
whom  there  is  no  convincing.  So  that  now  I  think 
I  underfland,  what  before  I  did  not,  the  IVIeaning 
of  that  common  Saying,  That  a  Fool  will  neither 
bend  nor  break.  May  it  never  fall  to  my  Lot  to 
have  a  wife,  that  is  an  untradable  Fool,  for  my 
Friend  (r).  *'  It  is  all  to  no  Purpofe  :  I  am  deter- 
"  mined.**  So  are  Madmen  too  ;  but  the  more 
flrongly  they  are  determined  upon  Abfurditles,  the 
more  Need  have  they  of  Hellebore.  Why  will  you 
not  ad  like  a  fick  Perfon,  and  apply  yourfelf  to  a 
Phyfician }  "  Sir,  I  am  fick.  Give  me  your  M- 
*'  fiflance :  confider  what  I  am  to  do.  Jt  is  my 
"  Part  to  follow  your  Diredions."  So,  in  thepre- 
fent  Cafe  :   I  know  not  what  I  ought  to  do  ;  and  I 

am  come  to  learn. "  No  :    but  tallc  to  me 

"  about  other  Things :  for  upon  This  I  am  deter- 
"  mined."  What  other  Things  .?  What  is  of  great- 
er Confequence,  ihan  to  convince  you,  that  it  is 
notfufficient  to  be  determined,  and  to  perfifl:.  This 
is  the  Tenfion  of  a  Madman  i  not  of  one  in  Health. 

'Mwili 

(a)  Inftead  of  oixoJonA)j|xa  tj  of,  the  true  Reading  Teems  to  be 
•txoJb/x»jT£o>  J  and  is  io  tranflated. 

(b)  The  WorJd. 

(c)  The  Tranflation  here  follows  Mr.  UptoiCi  Copy, 


144  ^^^  Discourses  of        Book  II 

"  I  will  die,  if  you  compel  me  to  this."     Why  fb, 

Man  :   what  is  the  Matter  ? -'*  1  am  deter min- 

*'  ed,"  I  have  a  lucky  Efcape,  that  you  are  not. 
determined  to  kill  me.  "  I  take  no  Money  {d)'* 
Whyfo?  "I  am  determined/'  Be  alTured,  that 
with  that  very  Tenfion  which  you  now  make  ufe 
of  to  refufe  it,  you  may,  very  poilibly,  hereafter, 
have  as  unreafonable  a  Fropenfity  to  take  it ;  and 
again  to  fay,  '*  I  am  determined."  As,  in  adiftem- 
pered  and  rheumatic  Body,  the  Humour  tends 
Ibmetimes  to  one  Part,  fometimes  to  another  •,  thus 
it  is  uncertain  which  Way  a  fickly  Mind  will  incline. 
But  if,  to  its  Inclination  and  Bent,  an  obflinate 
Tenfion  be  likewife  added,  the  Evil  then  becomes 
defperate  and  incurable. 

CHAPTER    XVI. 

Thiit  we  do  not  ftudy  to  make  ufe  of  the  Principles 
concerning  Good  and  Evil. 

§.  I-  W/  H  E R  E  lies  Good .?  In  Choice.  Where 
W  'EVA}  In  Choice.  Where  neither 
Good  nor  Evil  i*  In  Things  independent  on  Choice. 
What  then  .''  Doth  any  of  us  remember  thefe  Lef- 
fons  out  of  the  Schools  ?  Doth  any  of  us  fludy  how 
to  Anfwer  for  himfelf  in  Things,  as  in  Queflions  ? 
"  Is  it  Day  ?"  "  Yes."  '^  Is  it  Night,  then  ?" 
'*  No.'*  "  Is  the  Number  of  Stars  even  V*  "1  can- 
"  not  tell."  W^hen  {a)  Money  is  offered  you,  have 
you  fludied  to  make  the  proper  Anfwer,  That  it 
is  nc»t  a  Good  ?  Have  you  exercifed  yourfelf  in  fuch 
Anf^^'ers  as  thefe ;  or  only  in  Sophiftries  }  Why  do 
you  wonder  then,  that  you  improve  in  Points  which 
you  have  fludied  j  and  in  thofe  which  you  have  not 

fludied, 

(^)i  This,  probably,  is  fpoken  in  the  Perfon  of  one,  who  is 
•ffenad  Afliftance  necelTary  for  his  Support,  and  refufeslt. 
{a^  /  As  a  Bribe  for  bad  Piypofes. 


Chap.  16.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  145 

fludied,  there  you  remaio  the  fame  ?  When  an 
Orator  knows,  that  he  hath  written  well ;  that  he 
hath  committed  to  Memory  what  he  hath  written ; 
and  that  he  brings  an  agreeable  Voice  with  him  ; 
why  is  he  Hill  folicitons  ?  Becaufe  he  is  not  conten- 
ted, with  what  he  hath  fludied.  What  doth  he 
want,  then  ?  To  be  applauded  by  the  Audience. 
He  hath  fludied  the  Power  of  fpeaking,  then  ;  but 
he  hath  not  fludied  Cenfure  and  Applaufe.  For 
when  did  he  hear  from  any  one,  what  Applaufe, 
what  Cenfure,  is  .^  What  is  the  Nature  of  each? 
What  kind  of  Applaufe  is  to  be  fought,  and  what 
kind  of  Cenfure  to  be  fhunned  ?  And  when  did 
he  ever  apply  himfelf,  to  ftudy  what  follows  from 
thefe  Leflbns  ?  Why  do  you  wonder  then,  if,  in 
what  he  hath  learned,  he  exceJs  others  -,  but,  where 
he  hath  not  fludied,  he  is  the  fame  with  the  refl  of 
the  World  ?  Jufl  as  a  Mufician  knows  how  to  play, 
fmgs  well,  and  hath  the  proper  Drefs  of  his  Pro- 
fellion ;  yet  trembles  when  he  comes  upon  the 
Stage.  For  the  firfl  he  underflands  :  but  what  the 
Multitude  is,  or  what  the  Clamour  and  Laughter  of 
the  Multitude  is,  he  doth  not  underfland.  Nor  doth 
he  even  know,  what  Solicitude  itfelf  is :  whether  it 
be  our  own  affair,  or  that  of  others  ;  or  whether  it 
be  poflible  to  fupprefs  it,  or  not.  Hence,  if  he  is 
applauded,  he  is  putted  up,  when  he  makes  his 
Exit:  but,  if  he  is  laughed  at,  the  Tumour  is 
pricked,  and  fubfides. 

§.2.  Thus  are  we  too  affeded.  What  do  we 
admire  ?  Externals,  For  what  do  we  flrive  ^  Ex- 
ternals. And  are  v/e  then  in  any  Doubt  how  we 
tome  to  fear,  and  be  folicitous  ?  What  is  the  Con- 
fequence  thep,  when  we  eileem  the  Things  that 
are  brought  upon  us,  to  be  Evils  ^  We  cannot 
but  fear  \  we  cannot  but  be  folicitous.  And  then 
we  fay,  '^  O  J^.ord  Gcd,  how  fhiill  I  avoid  Solici- 
L  '*tuder 


146  fibtf  Di$cou  RSES  o/         Bookn. 

*'  tude !"    Have  you  not  Hands,  Fool  ?  (b)  Hath 
not  God  made  them  for  you  ?     (c)  Sit  down  now, 
and  pray,  that  your  Nofe  may  not  run.     Wipe  it 
rather  -,  and  do  not  murmur.     Well ;  and  hath  he 
given  you  nothing  in  the  prefent  Cafe  ?  Hath  not 
he  given  you  Patience  ?    Hath  not  he  given  you 
Magnaniniity  ?    Hath  not  he  given  you  Fortitude  ? 
W^hen  you  have  fuch  Hands  as  thefe,  do  you  flill 
feek  for  Somebody  to  wipe  your  Nofe  ?  (d)    But 
we  neither  ftudy  nor  regard  thefe  Things.     For 
give -me  but  one,  who  cares  how  he  doth  anything, 
who  doth  not  regard  the  Succefs  of  any  thing,  but 
his  own   Manner   of  ading.     Who,   when   he  is 
walking,  regards  his  own   Adion?    Who,  when 
he  is  deliberating,  the  Deliberation  itfelf,  and  not 
the  Succefs  that  is  to  follow  it  ?    If  it  happens  to 
fucceed,  he  is  elated  ;  and  cries,  "  How  prudently 
*'  have  we  deliberated !   Did  not  I  tell  you,  my 
"  dear  Friend,  that  it  was  impoffible,  when  we 
"  confidered   about  any  thing,  that   it  fliould  not 
**  happen   right  ?"  But,  if  it  mifcarries,   the  poor 
Wretch  is  dejedted  -,  and  knows  not  what  to  fay 
about  the   Matter.      Who  among  us  ever,  upon 
this  Account,  confulted   a   Diviner  ?    Who   of  us 
ever  flept  in  a  Temple,  to  be  informed  concerning 
his  Manner  of  adting  ?  (^;   I  fay,  who  ?   Show  me 

one 

{h)  The  Order  of  this  PafTage  (hould  be Sit  down  now, 

and  pray,  that  your  Nofe  may  not  run.  Have  you  not  Hands, 
Fool  ?  Hath  not  God  made  them  for  you,  &c.  But  Epi^etus, 
probably,  might  fpeak  extempore  in  this  inverted  manner  :  and 
Jrriaji  propofes  to  deliver  what  he  faid,  with  the  greateft  Ex- 
aclnefs. 

(c)  Sitting,  probably  fome  particular  Sort  of  it,  was  ancient- 
ly (fee  Judges  xx.  26.  i  Chr.  xvii.  16.)  one  Pofture  of  Devo- 
tion. Our  Anceftors,  in  Queen  Eli%,abeth\  Time,  called 
Kneeling,  Sitting  on  their  Knees.  A  mixed  Pofture  of  Sitting 
and  Kneeling  is  now  ufed,  by  forae  Nations  in  Prayer. 

(d)  See  p.  21.  Note/. 

(e)  The  Heathen  had  certain  Temples,  in  which  it  was 
ufua!  for  Perfons  to  fleep,  in  order  to  receive  Oracles  by  Dreams. 
One  of  the  moft  celebrated  Places,  appropriated  to  this  Purpofe, 
was  the  Temple  of  Amphiaraus,     See  Philostratus,  p.  ']']U 


Chap.  i6;       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S,  147' 

one  (that  I  may  fee  what  I  have  long  fought)  who 
is  truly  noble  and  ingenuous.  Show  me  either  a 
young  or  an  old  Man  (f), 

§.  3.  Why  then  are  we  flill  furprifed,  if,  when 
we  wafte  all  our  Attention  on  the  Materials  of  Ac- 
tion, we  are,  in  the  Manner  of  Adion  itfelf,  low, 
fordid,  worthlefs,  fearful,  wretched,  and  a  mere 
Heap  of  Difappointment  and  Mifery  P  For  we  do 
not  care  about  thefe  Things,  nor  make  them  our 
Study.  If  we  had  feared,  not  Death  or  Exile,  but 
Fear  itfelf,  we  fhould  have  fludied  not  to  fall  into 
what  appears  to"  us  to  be  evil.  But,  as  the  Cafe 
now  {lands,  we  are  eager  and  loquacious  in  the 
Schools ;  and,  when  any  little  Queftion  arifes  about 
any  of  thefe  Things,  we  are  prepared  to  trace  it3 
Confequences :  but  drag  us. into  Practice,  and  you 
will  find  us  miferably  ihip wrecked.  Let  fome  alarm- 
ing Appearance  attack  us ;  and  you  will  perceive 
what  we  have  been  lludying,  and  in  what  we  are 
exercifed.  Befides  this  Negligence,  we  always  ac- 
cumulate fomewhat  elfe,  and  reprefent  Things 
greater  than  the  Reality.  In  a  Voyage,  for  Inftance, 
cafting  my  Eyes  down  upon  the  Ocean  below,  and 
looking  round  me,  and  feeing  no  Land,  I  am  out 
of  my  Wits ;  and  imagine,  that,  if  I  fliould  be 
(hipwrecked,  I  mull  fwallow  all  tha,t  Ocean:  nor 
doth  it  once  enter  my  Head,  that  three  Pints  are 
enough  to  do  my  Bufinefs  W"hat  is  it  then,  that 
alarms  me  }  The  Ocean  ?  No  :  but  my  own  Prin- 
ciple.  Again  :  in  an  Earthquake,  I  imagine  the 
L  2  City 

(f)  It  is  obfervable,  that  this  moft  pra6tical  of  all  the  Phi- 
lofophers,  owns  his  Endeavours  met  with  little  or  no  Succefs, 
among  his  Scholars.  The  Apoftles  fpeak  a  very  different  Lan- 
guage, in  their  Epiftles,  to  the  firft  Converts  to  Chriftianity : 
and  the  Ads  of  the  Apoftles,  and  all  the  Monuments  of  the  pri- 
mitive Ages,  bear  Teftimony  to  the  Reformation  of  Manners 
produced  by  the  Gofpel.  This  Difference  of  Succefs  might  in- 
deed jultly  be  expeded,  from  the  Difference  of  the  two  Sy- 
ftems. 


148  fi&tf  D  1  s  c  0  u  R  s  E  s  /?/       Book  It 

City  is  going  to  fall  upon  me  :  but  is  not  one  lit- 
tle Stone  enough,  to  knock  my  Brains  out  ?  What 
is  it  then,  that  opprefTes,  and  puts  us  out  of  our 
Wits  ?  Why,  what  elfe,  but  our  Principles  ?  For 
what  is  it,  but  mere  Principle,  that  opprefles  him, 
who  leaves  his  Country,  and  is  feparated  from  his 
,  Acquaintance,  and  Friends,  and  t* lace,  and  ufual 
'Manner  of  Life?  When  Children  cry,  if  their 
Nurfe  happens  to  be  abfent  for  a  little  while,  give 
them  a  Cake,  and  they  forget  their  Grief.  Shall 
^ve  compare  you  to  thefe  Children  then  ? 

No,  indeed.  For  I  do  not  defire  to  be  pacified 
by  a  Cake^  but  by  right  Principles,  And  what 
are  they  ? 

Such  as  a  Man  ought  to  iludy  all  Day  long,  fo 
as  not  to  be  attached  to.  what  doth  not  belong  to 
him  i  neither  to  a  Friend,  to  a  Place,  an  Acade- 
my ;  nor  even  to  his  own  Body  :  but  to  remember 
the  Law,  and  to  have  that  conilantly  before  his 
Eyes.  And  what  is  the  divine  Law  ?  To  preferve 
inviolate  what  is  properly  our  own :  not  to  claim 
what  belongs  to  others  :  to  u(e  what  is  given  us  ; 
and  not  delire  what  is  not  given  us  :  and,  when  any 
thing  is  taken  away,  to  rellore  it  readily  ;  and  to 
be  thankful  for  the  Time  you  have  been  permitted 
the  Ufe  of  it ;  and  not  cry  after  it,  like  a  Child  for 
its  Nurfe  and  its  Mamma.  For  what  doth  it  fignify, 
what  gets  the  better  of  yon,  or  on  what  you  de- 
pend ^.  And  in  what  are  you  fuperior  to  him,  who 
cries  for  a  Puppet,  if  you  lament  for  a  paultry  Aca- 
.  demy,  and  a  Portico,  and  an  Aflembly  of  young 
People;  and  fuch-like  Amufements .?  Another 
comes,  lamenting,  that  he  mull  no  longer  drink 
the  Water  of  Dirce  ( /).  Why,  is  not  the  Marcian 
Water  as  good  ^  "  But  I  was  ufed  to  that."  And 
in  time  you  will  be  ufed  to  the  other.    And,  when 

you 

(f)  A  beautiful  clear  River  in  Ba^otia,  flowing  into  the  l/me- 
mis.  The  Marcian  Water  was  conveyed  by  Amus  Murtius  to 
Rome,     Upton. 


Chap.  i6.      E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  149 

you  are  attached  to  this  too,  you  may  cry  again, 
and  fet  yourfelf  in  Imitation  of  Euripides^  to  cele- 
biate,  in  Verfe, 

Ue  Baths  of  Nero,  and  the  Marcian  TValer. 

Hence  fee  the  Origin  of  Tragedy,  when  trifling 
Accidents  befal  foolifli  -Men.  "  Ah,  when  fhall  I 
"  fee  Athens^  and  the  Citadel,  again!''  Wretch, 
are  not  you  contented  with  what  you  fee  every  Day  ? 
Can  you  fee  any  thing  better  than  the  Sun,  the 
Moon,  the  Stars,  the  whole  Earth,  the  Sea  ?  But 
if  befides,  you  comprehend  him  who  adminiflers 
the  Whole,  and  carry  him  about  in  yourfelf,  do 
you  flill  long  after  Pebbles,  and  a  fine  Rock  (g)  ? 
What  will  you  do  then,  when  you  are  to  leave  even 
the  Sun  and  Moon  ?  Will  you  fit  crying,  like  an 
Infant  ?  What  then  have  you  been  doing  in  the 
School?  What  did  you  hear?  What  did  you 
learn  ?  Why  have  you  written  yourfelf  a  Philofo- 
pher,  inftead  of  writing  the  real  Fad  ?  I  have 
made  fome  {h)  Introductions  [you  may  fay]  -,  and 
read  over  Chryfippus ;  but  I  have  not  fo  much  as  gone 
near  the  Door  of  a  Philofopher  (i).  For  what  Pre- 
tenfions  have  I,  to  any  thing  of  the  fame  kind  with 
Socrates^  who  died,  and  who  lived,  in  fuch  a  Man- 
ner ?  Or  with  Diogenes  ?  Do  you  obferve  either  of 
thefe  crying,  or  out  of  Humour,  that  he  is  not  to 
fee  fuch  a  Man,  or  fuch  a  Woman  •,  nor  to  live 
any  longer  at  Athens^  or  at  Corinth  •,  but  at  Sufa^ 
for  hiflance,  or  Echatana  ?  For  doth  he  flay,  and 
repine,  who  is  at  his  Liberty,  whenever  he  pleafes, 
to  quit  the  Entertainment,  and  play  no  longer  ? 
Why  doth  he  not  flay,  as  Children  do,  as  long  as 
he  is  amufed?  Such  a  one,  no  doubt,  will  bear 
perpetual  Banifhment,  and  a  Sentence  of  Death, 
L  3  wonderful 

(g)  Mr.  Upton  conjeftures  this  to  be  an  Allufion  to  fome  poe- 
tical, or  rhetorical  Defcription. 

[h)  Brief  Summaries  of  any  Science,  for  the  Ufe  of  Beginners, 
are  often  fo  called, 

(i)  Perhaps  the  true  Reading  ihould  be  <l)<^oc^o9^«;,  Philofophy. 


150  ^he  Discou  RSES  of  Book  II. 

wonderful  well !  Why  will  you  not  be  weaned,  as 
Children  are  ;  and  take  more  folid  Food  ?  Will 
you  never  ceafe  to  cry  after  your  Mammas  and 
Nurfes,  whom  the  old  Women  about  you  have 
taught  you  to  bewail  ?     "  But  if  I  go  away,  I  (hall 

*'  trouble  them." Tou  trouble  them !  No  :  it 

will  not  htyou:  but  that  which  troubles  you  too. 
Principle,  What  have  you  to  do  then  ?  Pluck 
out  your  ffalfe]  Principle  i  and,  if  they  are  wife, 
they  will  pluck  out  theirs  too  j  or,  if  not,  they  will 
groan  for  themfelvcs. 

§.  4.  Boldly  make  a  defperate  Pu(h,  Man,  as 
the  Saying  is,  for  Profperity,  for  Freedom,  for 
Magnanimity.  Lift  up  your  Head,  at  laft,  as  free 
from  Slavery.  Dare  to  look  up  to  God,  and  fay  ; 
**^  Make  ufe  of  me  for  the  future  as  thou  wilt.  I 
*'  am  of  the  fame  Mind  :  I  am  equal  with  Thee. 
*'  I  refufe  nothing  which  feems  good  to  Thee. 
"  Lead  me  whither  Thou  wilt.  Clothe  me  in 
**  whatever  Drefs  Thou  wilt.  Is  it  Thy  Will, 
*'  that  I  fhould  be  in  a  public  or  a  private  Condi- 
*^  tion  ;  dwell  here,  or  be  baniflied  \  be  poor,  or 
*'  rich  ?  Under  all  thefe  Circumftances  I  will  make 
*'  Thy  Defence  to  Men  (k).     I  will  ftiow  what  the 

"  Nature  of  every  Thing  is." No.   Rather  fit 

alone,  in  a  v/arm  (/)  Place,  and  wait  till  your  Mam- 
ma comes  to  feed  you.  If  Hercules  had  fat  loiter- 
ing at  Home,  what  w^ouldhe  have  been  ?  Euryjiheus^ 
and  not  Hercules,     Befides,  by  travelling  through 

the 

(k)  There  are  innumerable  Paflages  in  St.  PauU  which,  in 
Teality,  bear  that  noble  Telllmony  vv'hich  EpiSfetus  here  requires 
in  his  imaginary  Charadter,  Such  are  thofe  in  which  he  ^/cr/Vj 
in  tribulation  ^  Ipeaks  with  an  heroic  Contempt  of  Life,  when  fet 
in  Competition  with  the  Performance  of  his  Duty  ;  rejoices  in 
Bonds  and  Imprifonments,  and  the  View  of  his  approaching 
Martyrdom  :  and  reprefents  Afflidlons  as  a  Proof  of  God's  Love. 
See  /ids  XX.  23,  24.     Rom.  v.  3.  viii.  35 — 39.  2  ^im.  iv.  6. 

(I)  The  Senfe  of  the  original  Phrafe,  an  Ox's  Belly,  is  ob- 
fcure  to  me.     The  Trench  Tranflation  hath,  in  pur  Cradk. 


ehap.  17.      E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  i^  ^ 

the  World,  how  many  Acquaintance,  and  how 
many  Friends,  had  he  ?  But  none  more  his  Friend, 
than  God  :  for  which  Reafon  he  was  believed  to  be 
the  Son  of  God  ;  and  was  fb.  In  Obedience  to  him, 
he  went  about  extirpating  Injuftice,  and  lawlefs 
Force.  But  you  are  not  Hercules ;  nor  able  to  ex- 
tirpate the  Evils  of  others:  nor  even  Thefeus^  to  ex- 
tirpate the  Evils  of  Attica.  Extirpate  your  own 
then.  Expel,  inflead  of  Procruftes  and  Kiciron  {m)^ 
Grie(f,  Fear,  Defire,  Envy,  Malevolence,  Avarice, 
Effeiliinacy,  Intemperance,  [from  your  Mind]. 
But  thefe  can  be  no  otherwife  expelled,  than  look- 
ing up  to  God  alone,  as  your  Pattern:  by  attaching 
yourfelf  to  him  alone,  and  being  confecrated  to  his 
Commands.  If  you  wifh  for  any  thing  elfe,  you 
will,  with  Sighs  and  Groans,  follow  what  is  flronger 
than  you :  always  feeking  Profperity  without,  and 
never  able  to  find  it.  For  you  feek  it  where  it  is 
not,  and  negled  to  feek  it  where  it  is. 

CHAPTER    XVIL 

How  to  adopt  Pre-conceptions  to  particular  Cafes, 

§.  T.  \T  7  H  A  T  is  the  firfl  Bufinefs  of  one  who 
W  fludies  Philofophy  ?  {a)  To  part  with 
Self-Conceit.  For  it  is  impoilible  for  any  one  to 
begin  to  learn  what  he  hath  a  Conceit  that  he  alrea- 
dy knows.  We  all  go  to  the  Philofophers,  talking 
at  all  Adventures  upon  negative  and  pofitive  Du- 
ties ;  Good  and  Evil ;  Fair  and  Bafe.  We  praife, 
cenfure,  accufe  ♦,  we  judge  and  difpute  about  fair 
and  bafe  Enterprifes.  And  for  what  do  we  go  to 
the  Philofophers  ?  To  learn  what  we  fuppofe  our- 
L  4  felves 

{m)  Two  famous  Robbers,  who  infefted  Attica^  and  were  at 
laft  ki  1 1  ed  by  The  feus.     Upton. 
(a)  SeeB.II.  c,  II.  §.  u 


fJS  The  Discourses  of        Book  II; 

felves  not  to  know.  And  what  is  this  ?  Theorems. 
We'  are  defirous  to  hear  what  the  Fhilofophers  fay,  - 
for  its  Elegance  and  Acutenefs ;  and  feme  v/ith  a 
View  only  to  Gaiit.  Now  it  is  ridiculous  to  fuppofe, 
that  a  Perfon  will  learn  any  thing,  but  what  he  de- 
fires  to  learn ;  or  make  an  Improvement,  in  what 
he  doth  not  learn.  But  moft  are  deceived,  in  the 
fame  Manner  as  Theopompusy  the  Orator,  when  he 
blames  Piato^  for  defining  every  thing.  "  For, 
*^  what,  fays  he,  did  none  of  us,  before  you,  ufe 
*^  the  Words  Good  and  Ju/i :  or  did  we  utter  them 
*^  as  empty  Sounds,  without  underflanding  what 
"  each  of  them  meant?"  Why,  who  tells  you, 
'TheopompiiSy  that  we  had  not  natural  Ideas  and  Pre- 
conceptions of  each  of  thefe  ?  But  it  is  not  poflible, 
to  adapt  Pre-conceptions  to  their  correfpondent  Sub- 
jedls,  without  having  minutely  diflinguifhed  them, 
and  examined  what  is  the  proper  Subjed  to  each. 
You  may  make  the  fame  Objection  to  the  Phyfici- 
ans.  For  who  of  us  did  not  ufe  the  Words,  Whole- 
fome  and  Unwholefome,  before  Hippocrates  was 
born  :  or  did  we  utter  them  as  empty  Sounds  ? 
For  we  have  fome  Pre-conception  of  Wholefome 
too ;  but  we  cannot  adapt  it.  Hence,  one  fays. 
Let  the  Patient  abflain  from  Meat  •,  another,  Give 
it  him  :  one  fays,  Let  him  be  bled  -,  another,  Cup 
him.  And  what  is  the  Reafbn,  but  not  being  able 
to  adapt  the  Pre-conception  of  Wholefome,  to  par- 
ticular Cafes  .?  Thus,  too  in  Life :  who  of  us  doth 
not  talk  of  Good  and  Evil  ;  Advantageous  and  Dif- 
advantageous  :  for  who  of  us  hath  not  a  Pre-con- 
ception of  each  of  thefe  ?  But  is  it  then  a  diilindt 
and  perfect  one }    Show  me  this. 

How  fliail  I  fhow  it .? 

§.  2.  Adapt  it  properly  to  particular  Subjeds. 
PlatOy  to  go  no  farther,  puts  Definitions  under  the 
Pre-conception  of  Ufeful  ;  but  ,you,  under  that  of 
Ufelefs.  Can  both  of  you  be  right  ?  How  is  it  pof- 
fible  ?  Again  :  doth  not  one  Man  adapt  the  Pre- 
conception 


Cliap.  17.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  155 

conception  of  Good,  to  Riches  ?  Another,  not  to 
Riches,  but  to  Pieafure,  or  Health?  Upon  the 
whole,  if  none  of  us,  \vho  ufe  Words,  either  utter 
them  without  Meaning,  or  need  to  take  any  man- 
ner of  Care  in  diflinguifhing  our  Pre-conceptions, 
why  do  v/e  differ  ?  Why  do  we  wrangle  ?  Why 
dq  v/e  cenfure  each  other  ?  But  what  Occafion  have 
I  to  mention  this  mutual  Contradidion  ?  If  you 
yourfelf  adapt  your  Pre-conceptions  properly,  how 
comes  it  to  pafs,  that  you  do  not  profper  ?  Why 
do  you  meet  with  any  Hindrance  ?  Let  us  for  the 
prefent  omit  the  fecond  Topic,  concerning  the  Pur- 
fuits^  and  the  Duties  relative  to  them  :  Let  us  omit 
the  Third  too,  concerning  AJJent,  I  make  you  a 
Prefent  of  all  thefe.  Let  us  infift  only  on  the  Firft  {b) ; 
which  affords  almoft  a  fenfib'le  Proof,  that  you  do 
not  adapt  your  Pre-conceptions  right.  You  defirc 
what  is  poflible  in  itfelf,  and  poflible  for  you.  Why- 
then  are  you  hindered  ?  Why  are  not  you  in  a  pro- 
fperous  Way  ?  You  do  not  decline  what  is  necef- 
fary.  Why  then  do  you  incur  any  thing  [which  is 
your  Averfion  ?]  Why  are  you  unfortunate? 
When  you  defire  any  thing,  why  doth  it  not  hap- 
pen ?  When  you  do  not  defire  it,  why  doth  it  hap- 
pen ?  For  this  is  the  greatefl  Demonflration  of  ill 
Succefs  and  Mifery.  I  defire  fomething  -,  and  it 
doth  not  happen  :  and  what  is  more  wretched  than 
I  ?  From  an  Impatience  of  this,  Med'a  came  to 
murder  her  own  Children  :  an  Aclion  of  a  noble 
Spirit  in  this  View  ;  for  Ihe  had  a  proper  ImprelTion 
of  what  it  was  to  be  clifappointed  of  one's  Defire. 
*'  Thus  I  fhall  punifh  him,  who  hath  injured  and 
"  difhonoured  me  :  and  what  is  fo  wicked  a  Wretch 
**  good  for  ?  But  how  is  this  to  be  efFeded  ?  I  will 
"  murder  the  Children  :  but  that  will  be  punifh- 
**  ing  myfelf  And  what  do  I  care  ?"  This  is  the 
Error  of  a  Soul  indued  with  great  Powers.     For  (he 

knew 
(h)  i.  A   The  Topic  of  the  Dejires  and  Aver/tdm, 


1 54  ^ke  Discourses  of       Book' IT) 

knew  not  where  the  Completion  of  our  Defires  is  to 
be  found  :  that  it  is  not  to  be  had  from  without ;  nor 
by  altering  the  Appointment  of  Things.  Do  not 
defire  the  Man  for  your  Hufband,  and  nothing 
which  you  do  defire  will  fail  to  happen.  Do  not 
defire  to  keep  him  to  yourfelf.  Do  not  defire  to 
Hay  at  Corinth  ♦,  and,  in  a  Word,  have  no  Will, 
but  the  Will  of  God  ;  and  who  (hall  reftrain  you  ; 
who  fhall  compel  you^  any  more  than  Jupiter? 
When  you  have  fuch  a  Guide,  and  conform  your 
Will  and  Inclinations  to  his,  what  need  you  fear 
being  difappointed  ?  Yield  up  your  Defire  and 
Averfion  [as  Slaves]  to  Riches,  or  Poverty ;  the 
one  will  be  difappointed,  the  other  incurred.  Yield 
them  up  to  Health,  Power,  Honours,  your  Coun- 
try, Friends,  Children,  in  ihort,  to  any  thing  inde- 
pendent on  Choice,  you  will  be  unfortunate.  But 
yield  them  up  to  Jupiter^  and  the  other  Gods. 
Give  yourfelf  up  to  thefe :  let  thefe  govern  :  let 
both  be  ranged  on  the  fame  Side  with  thefe  ;  and 
how  can  you  be  any  longer  unprofperoiis  .?  But  if, 
poor  Wretch,  you  envy,  and  pity,  and  are  jealous, 
and  tremble,  and  never  ceafe,  a  fingle  Day,  from 
complaining  of  yourfelf,  and  the  Gods,  why  do 
you  boaft  cf  your  Education }  What  Education, 
Man  }  That  you  have  learned  convertible  Syllo- 
gifms }  Why  do  not  you,  if  poflible,  unlearn  all 
thefe,  and  begin  again ;  convinced,  that  hitherto, 
you  have  not  even  touched  upon  the.  Point  ?  And, 
for  the  future,  beginning  from  this  Foundation,  pro- 
ceed, in  Order,  to  the  Superllrudure  i  that  nothing 
may  happen  which  you  do  not  wi(h,  and  that  every 
thing  may  happen  which  you  do.  Give  me  but 
one  young  Man,  who  brings  this  Intention  with  him 
to  the  School ;  who  is  a  Champion  for  this  Point ; 
and  fays,  "  I  yield  up  all  the  reft :  it  fuffices 
*'  me,  if  once  I  become  able  to  pafs  my  Life, 
*'  free  from  Hindrance  and  Grief :  to  ft  retch  out 
"  my  Neck  to  all  Events,  as  free  j  and  to  look 

!'  up 


Chap.  17.       EPICTETUS.  155 

"  up  to  Heaven,  as  the  Friend  of  God  ^  fearing 
*'  nothing  that  can  happen."  Let  any  one  of 
you  (how  himfelf  of  fuch  a  Difpofition,  that  I 
may  fay,  "  Come  into  the  Place,  young  Man,  that 
*'  is  of  right  your  own  ;  for  you  are  deftined  to  be 
**  an  Ornament  to  Philofophy.  Yours  are  thefe 
"  PofTeflions  ;  yours  thefe  Books ;  yours  thefe  Dif- 
*^  courfes "  Then,  when  he  hath  mafter'd,  and 
got  the  better  of  this  firfl  Clafs,  let  him  come  to 
me  again,  and  fay  ;  ''  1  defire  indeed  to  be  free 
*'  from  Paflion,  and  Perturbation  ;  but  I  defire  too, 
"  as  a  pious,  a  philofophic,  and  a  carefully  atten- 
*'  tive  Man,  to  know,  what  is  my  Duty  to  God, 
"  to  my  Parents,  to  my  Relations,  to  my  Country, 
"  and  to  Strangers."  '^  Come  into  the  fecond 
*^  Clafs  too  ;  for  this  likewife  is  yours."  "  But  I 
**  have  now  flifficiently  fludied  the  fecond  Clafs  too ; 
''  and  I  would  willingly  be  fecure,  and  (0  un- 
''  ihaken  by  Error  and  Delufion,  not  only  awake, 
*'  but  even  when  afleep ;  when  warmed  with  Wine ; 
*'  when  difeafed  with  the  Spleen/*  ''  You  are  a 
''  God,  Man  :  your  Intentions  are  great." 

§.3.  "  No.  But  I,  for  my  part,  defire  to  under- 
"  ftand  what  Chryfippus  fays,  in  his  logical  Treatife 
^'  of  the  {d)  PfeMdomenos^-^Go  hang  yourfelf,  piti- 
ful Wretch,  with  fuch  an  Intention  as  this.  What 
Good  will  it  do  you  ?  You  will  read  the  Whole  la- 
menting all  the  while ;  and  fay  to  others,  trembling, 

"  Do  as  I  do.'* ''  Shall  1  read  to  you,    my 

''  Friend, 

{c)  There  are  feveral  Readings  and  Conjedlures.  I  have  fol- 
lowed Woljfius ;  who  reads,  for  acrtTwj,  acrnTf^q ;  as  agreeing  beil 
with  the  Senfe. 

{dj  The  Pfeudojnenos  was  a  famous  Problem  among  the  Stoics  j 
and  it  is  this.  When  a  Perfon  fays,  /  lie  ;  doth  he  Jie,  or  doth 
he  not  ?  If  he  h'§^,  he  fpeaks  Truth  :  if  he  fpeaks  Truth,  he 
lies.  The  Philofophers  compofed  many  Books  on  this  Difficul- 
ty. Chryfippus  wrote  fix.  Philetas  walled  himfelf  to  Death  in 
iludying  to  anfwer  it.  Menage  on  Dioo.  1-aert.  L,  II.  §, 
io8.     Brucker  Hiji.  Crit,  fhilof.  vol.  i.  p.  613,  614. 


156  The  Discourses  of        Book II. 

*'  Friend,  and  you  to  me  ?. ^You  write  {e)  fur- 

*'  prifingly.  Sir  ;  and  you  very  finely  imitate  the 
*'  Stile  of  Plato  ;  and  you^  of  Xenophon  \  and  you, 
*'  of  Ajnifthenes .''*  And  thus,  having  relating  your 
Dreams  to  each  other,  you  return  again  to  the 
fame  State.  Your  Defires  and  Averfions,  your 
Purftiits,  your  Intentions,  your  Refolutions,  your 
Wifhes  and  Endeavours,  are  jufl:  what  they  were. 
You  do  not  fo  much  as  feek  for  one  to  advife  you  j 
but  are  offended  when  you  hear  fuch  Things  as 
thefe  ;  and  cry,  ''  An  ill-natured  old  Fellow !  He 
*'  never  wept  over  m.e,  when  I  was  letting  out,  nor 
*'  faid  ;  To  what  a  Danger  are  you  going  to  be  ex- 
*'  pofed  !  If  you  come  ofFfafe,  Child,  I  will  illumi- 
*'  nate  my  Houfe."  "  This  would  have  been  the 
''  Part  of  a  good-natured  Man."  Truly,  it  will 
be  a  mighty  Happinefs,  if  you  do  come  offfafe  :  it 
will  be  worth  while  to  make  an  Illumination.  For 
you  (f)  ought  to  be  immortal,  and  exempt  from 
Sicknels,  to  be  fure. 

§.  4.  Throwing  away  then,  I  fay,  this  Self-con- 
ceit, by  which  we  fancy,  we  have  gained  fome 
Knowledge  of  what  is  ufeful,  \ye  fhould  come  to 
philofophic  Reafoning,  as  we  do  to  Mathematics  and 
Mufic  :  otherwife  we  fhall  be  far  from  making  any 
Improvement,  even  if  we  have  read  over  all  the 
CoUedions  and  Compofitions,  not  only  of  Cbryftp- 
fuf^  but  of  Antipater  and  Archedemus  too. 

CHAP- 

(e)  This  IS  fpoken  by  EpiSletus,  in  the  Perfon  of  one  of  his 
Scholars ;  to  ridicule  their  complimenting  each  other  on  their 
Writings,  while  they  negledled  the  more  important  Concern  of 
moral  Improvement?. 

(f)  Yt  ^ii  Ihould  be  ct  thi. 


Chap.  i8.      E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  157 

CHAPTER    XVIII. 

How  the  Appearances  of  Things  are  to  he  combated, 

§.  I.  in  VERY  Habit  and  Faculty  is  preferved. 
Hi  and  increafed,  by  correfpondent  Adlions : 
as  the  Habit  of  Walking,  by  walking ;  of  Running, 
by  running.  If  you  would  be  a  Reader,  read  :  if 
a  Writer,  write.  But  if  you  do  not  read  for  a 
Month  together,  but  do  fomewhat  elfe  -,  you  will 
fee  what  will  be  the  Confequence.  So,  after  fitting 
flill  for  ten  Days,  get  up  and  attempt  to  take  a 
long  Walk  ;  and  you  will  find  how  your  Legs  are 
weakened.  Upon  the  whole  then,  whatever  you 
would  make  habitual,  praflife  it :  and,  if  you  would 
not  make  a  Thing  habitual,  do  not  pradlife  it ;  but 
habituate  yourfelf  to  fomething  elfe. 

§.  2.  It  is  the  fame  with  regard  to  the  Operations 
of  the  Soul  Whenever  you  are  angry,  be  afTured, 
that  it  is  not  only  a  prefent  Evil,  but  that  you  have 
increafed  a  Habit,  and  added  Fuel  to  a  Fire.  When 
you  are  overcome  by  the  Company  of  Women,  do 
not  elleem  it  as  a  fingle  Defeat,  but  that  you  iiave 
fed,  that  you  have  increafed,  your  DilTolutenefs. 
For  it  is  impollible,  but  that  Habits  and  Faculties 
muft  eitlier  be  lirft  produced,  or  ftrcrngthened  and 
increafed  by  correfpondent  A<5tions.  Hence  the 
Philofophers  derive  the  Growth  of  alHniirmities. 
When  you  once  defire  Money,  for  Example,  if  a 
Degree  of  Reafoning  fufficient  to  -produce  a  Senfe 
of  the  Evil  be  applied,  the  Defire  ceafes,  and  the 
governing  Faculty  of  the  Mind  regains  its  iluthonty  i 
whereas  if  you  apply  no  Remedy,  it  returns  no  more 
to  Its  former  State  :  but,  being  again  excited  by  a 
correfponding  Appearance,  it  kindles  at  the  Defire 
more  quickly  than  before ;  and  by  frequent  Repe- 
titions, at  lall  becomes  callous  (^a)  :  and  by  this  In- 
firmity 
{a)  Hardened  againft  proper  ReflctSlions. 


158  T'i^^r  D  1  SCO  u  Rs  E  s    of         Book  If, 

firmity  is  the  Love  of  Money  fixed.     For  he  wha 
hath  had  a  Fever,  even  after  it  had  left  him,  is  not 
in  the  fame  State  of  Health  as  before,  unlefs  he  was 
perfedly  cured  :  and  the  fame  thing  happens  in 
Diflempers  of  the  Soul  likewife.  There  are  certain 
Traces  and  Bliflers  left  in  it ;  which,  unlefs  they 
are  well  effaced,  whenever  a  new  Hurt  is  received 
in  the  fame  Part,  inflead  of  Blifters,  become  Sores. 
§.3.     If  you  would  not  be  of  an  angry  Tem- 
per then,  do  not  feed  the  Habit.     Give  it  nothing 
to  help  its  Increafe.     Be  quiet  at  firft,  and  reckon 
the  Days  in  which  you  have  not  been  angry.     I 
ufed  to  be  angry  every  Day  ;    now  every  other 
Day  •,  then  every  third  and  fourth  Day  :  and  if  you 
mils  it  fo  long  as  thirty  Days,  offer  a  facrifice  of 
Thankfgiving  to  God.    For  Habit  is  firfl  weakened, 
and  then  intirely  deftroy'd.      "  I  was  not  vex'd 
*'  To-day  (h)  ;  nor  the  next  Day  ;  nor  for  three  or 
*'  four  Months  after ;  but  took  heed  to  myfelf, 
*'  when  fonie  provoking  Things  happened."     Be 
afiured,  that  you  are  in  a  fine  Way.     "  To-day, 
*'  when  I  faw  a  handfome  Perfbn,  I  did  not  fay  to 
*'  myfelf,  O  that  I  could  pofTefs  her  !    And,  how 
"  happy  is  her  Hufband  (for  he  who  fays  this,  fays 
*'  too,  how  happy  is  her  Gallant)  :  nor  do  I  go  on 
"  to  reprefent  her  as  prefent,  as  undrefs'd,  as  lying 
*'  down  befide  me."     On  this  I  flroak  my  Head, 
and  fay,  Well  done,  Epi5fetus  \  thou  hafl  fblved  a 
pretty  Sophifm,  a  much  prettier  than  one  very  ce- 
lebrated in  the  Schools  {c).     But,  if  even  the  Lady 
fhould  happen  to  be  willing,  and  give  me  Intimati- 
ons of  it,  and  fend  for  me,  and  prefs  my  Hand, 
and  place  herfelf  next  to  me  \  and  I  fliould  then  for- 
bear, 

{h)  Thefe  feveral  Fa£ls  are  here  fuppofed,  to  be  recollefled 

at  different  Times. 

(f)  In  this  Place,  and  the  following  Lines,  the  Original  men- 
tions particular  Forms  of  Argument,  which  are  now  little  un- 
derftood  i  and  could  not  be  at  all  inftruftive  to  the  BngUJh  Rea- 
der, 


M: 


Chap.  i8.      E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  159 

bear,  and  get  the  Vidory  ^  that  would  be  a  Sophifm 
beyond  all  the  Subtleties  of  Logic.  This,  and  not 
difputing  artfully,  is  the  proper  Subjed  for  Exulta- 
tion. 

§.  4.  How  then  is  this  to  be  effeded  ?  Be  wil- 
ling to  approve  yourfelf  to  yourfelf.  Be  willing  to 
appear  beautiful  in  the  Sight  of  God  :  be  defirous 
to  converfe  in  Purity  with  your  own  pure  Mind, 
and  with  God  :  and  then,  if  any  fuch  Appearance 
ftrikes  you,  Plato  diredts  you  :  "  Have  Recourfe 
*'  to  Expiations :  Go  a  Suppliant  to  the  Temples 
"  of  the  averting  Deities."  It  is  fufficient,  how- 
ever, if  you  propofe  to  yourfelf  the  Example  of 
wife  and  good  Men,  whether  alive  or  dead ;  and 
compare  your  Condu<5l  with  theirs.  Go  to  SocrateSy 
and  fee  him  lying  by  Alcibiades^  yet  flighting  his 
Youth  and  Beauty.  Confider  what  a  Vidlory  he 
was  confcious  of  obtaining  !  What  an  Olympic 
Prize  !  In  what  Number  did  he  (land  from  Hercu- 
les {d)  f  So  that,  by  Heaven,  one  might  juflly  fa- 
lute  Him  (e) ;  Hail !  incredibly  (f)  great,  univerfal 
Vidor  !  not  thofe  fbrry  Boxers  and  Wrefllers  ;  nor 
the  Gladiators,  who  refemble  them. 

§.  5.  By  placing  fuch  an  Objedt  over-againfl  you, 
you  will  conquer  any  Appearance,  and  not  be  drawn 
away  by  it.  But,  in  the  fir  ft  place,  be  not  hurried 
along  with  it,  by  its  hafty  Vehemence  :  but  fay ; 
AppearancCy  wait  for  me  a  little.     Let  me  fee  what 

you 

[d)  Hercules  is  faid  to  have  been  the  Author  of  the  Gymnaftic 
Games ;  and  the  firft  Viftor.  Thofe  who  afterwards  conquered 
in  Wreftling,  and  the  Pancratium,  were  numbered  from  him. 
Upton. 

{e)  Mr.  Upton  inferts  nxyitrnc^  which  he  conje^ures,  fhould  be 
vwnaa^y  into  the  Text,  from  his  Manufcript :  where,  probably, 
it  was  written  merely  by  an  Accident  of  the  Tranfcriber's  call- 
ing his  Eye  upon  that  Word  in  the  next  Line,  The  Senfe  needs 
not  this  Addition,  and  perhaps  doth  better  without  it. 

(f)  This  pompous  Title  was  given  to  thofe,  who  had  been 
Victors  in  all  the  Olympic  Games, 


i6o  ne  Discourses^/         Book  II; 

you  are,  and  what  you  reprefent.  Let  me  try  you. 
Then,  afterwards,  do  not  fuffer  it  to  go  on  draw- 
ing gay  Pictures  of  what  will  follow  :  if  you  do,  it 
will  lead  you  where-ever  it  pleafes.  But  rather  op- 
pofe  to  it  fome  good  and  noble  Appearance,  and 
banifh  this  bafe  and  fordid  one.  If  you  are  habitu- 
ated to  this  kind  of  Exercife,  you  will  fee  what 
Shoulders,  what  Nerves,  what  Sinews,  you  will 
have.  But  now  it  is  mere  trifling  Talk,  and  nothing 
more.  He  is  the  true  Praditioner,  who  exercifes 
himfelf  againfl  fuch  Appearances  as  thefe.  Stay, 
Wretch,  do  not  be  hurried  away.  The  Combat  is 
great,  the  Atchievement  divine  ;  for  Empire,  for 
Freedom,  for  Profperity,  for  Tranquillity.  Re- 
member God.  Invoke  Him  for  your  Aid,  and  Pro- 
tector ;  as  Sailors  do  Cnjior  and  Pollux^  in  a  Storm. 
For  what  Storm  is  greater  than,  that  which  arifcs 
trom  violent  Appearances,  contending  to  overfet 
our  Reafon  ?  Indeed,  what  is  the  Storm  itfelf,  but 
Appearance  ?  For,  do  but  take  av/ay  the  Fear  of 
Death,  and  let  there  be  as  many  Thunders  and 
Lightnings  as  you  pleafe,  you  will  find,  that,  in  the 
ruling  Faculty,  all -is  Serenity  and  Calm  :  but  if  you 
are  once  defeated,  and  fay,  you  will  get  the  Victory 
anotlier  Time,  and  then  the  fame  thing  over  again  ; 
affure  yourfelf,  you  will  at  laft  be  reduced  to  fb 
weak  and  wretched  a  Condition,  that  you  will  not 
f()  much  as  know  when  you  do  amifs ;  but  you  will 
even  begin  to  make  Defences  for  your  Behavicur, 
and  thus  verify  the  Saying  o^  Hefiod': 

fFitb  conjlant  I/ls,  the.  Dilatory  lirive, 

CHAPTER    XIX. 

Coneernhig  7hofe  wh  embrace  Philojaphy  only  in 
Word. 

§.  I.  np  H  E  Argument,  called  The  ruling  one, 

1     concerning  which  Difputants  queftion- 

ed  each  other,   appears    to  have  its  Rife   from 

hence 


Chap.  19.      E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  161 

hence  {a).  Of  the  following  Propofitions,  any 
Two  imply  a  Contradidlion  to  the  Third.  They 
are  thefe.  'That  every  thing  paft  is  necejfarily  true  : 
Ihat  an  hnpojftbility  is  not  the  Confequence  of  a  Pojfi- 
bility  :  And,  ^hat  fomething  is  a  Pojfibility^  which 
neither  is  nor  will  be  true,  Diodorns^  perceiving 
this  Contradidtion,  made  ufe  of  the  Probability  of 
the  Two  firfl,  to  prove.  That  nothing  is  pofTible, 
which  neither  is  nor  will  be  true.  Some  again  hold 
the  Second  and  Third -,  Th-^t  fomeih/ng  is  poj/lble^ 
which  neither  is  ncr  will  he  true  ;  and,  That  an  Im^ 
poffihility  is  not  the  Confequence  of  a  Pofjibility :  and, 
confequently,  aiTert,  That  not  every  thing  pafi  is  nt* 
cejfarily  true.  This  Way  Cleanthes  and  his  Follow- 
ers, took;  whom  Jntipater  copioufly  defends. 
Others,  laflly,  maintain  the  Firfl  and  Third ;  That 
fomething  is  poffible^  which  neither  is  nor  will  be  true  : 
and  That  every  thing  paft  is  necejfarily  true :  but 
then,  That  an  Impo/Jibility  may  be  the  Confequence  of 
a  Pojfibility.  But  all  thefe  Three  Propofitions  can- 
not be  at  once  maintained,  becaufe  of  their  mutual 
Contradidion.  If  any  one  fhould  afk  me  then, 
which  of  them  I  maintain  ;  I  anfwer  him,  That  I 
cannot  tell.  But  I  have  heard  it  related.  That  Bio- 
dor  us  held  one  Opinion  about  them ;  the  Followers 
of  Panthades^  I  think,  and  Cleanthes^  another  ;  and 
G6rv/?/>/)«j  a  third. 

What  then  is  youn  {b)  f 

(c)  None.  Nor  v/as  I  born  to  examine  the  Ap- 
pearances of  Things  to  my  own  Mind ;  to  compare 
what  is  faid  by  others,  and  thence  to  form  fome 
Principle  of  my  own,  as  to  the  Topic  [v/hich  you 
mention].  Therefore,  [in  refped  to  it,]  I  am  no 
M  better 


(a)  The  curious  Reader  may  fee  this  whole  Matter  explain- 
ed, with  the  greateft  Acrtenefs  and  Accuracy,  by  the  very 
learned  and  ingenious  Mr.  Harris,  in  Mr.  Upton  s  Notes. 

(b)  This  is  fpoken  to  Epuletus  by  one  of  his  Hearers. 

(c)  With  Mr.  Upton,  1  read  ovhv:  but  it  fee.Tis  necelTjry, 
that  oySt  ihould  iikewiieftand  -,  and  it  is  fo  tranflated. 


iSz  The  Disc  ov  VLfiiSr^  of  BookH. 

better  than  a  Grammarian  [who  repeats  what  he 
hath  read].  Who  was  the  Father  of  He^or  ?  Priam. 
Who  were  his  Brothers  ?  Paris  and  Deiphobus. 
Who  was  his  Mother  ?  Hecuba.  This  I  have  heard 
related.  From  whom  ?  From  Homer.  But  I  believe 
Heilanicus^  and  other  Authors,  have  written  on  the 
fame  Subjed.  And  what  better  Account  have  I  rf 
the  ruling  Argument  ?  But,  if  I  was  vain  enough, 
I  might,  efpecially  at  an  Entertainment  {d)^  alio* 
nifh  all  the  Company  by  an  Enumeration  of  Au- 
thors, relating  to  it.  Chryfippus  hath  written  won- 
derfully, in  his  firft  Book  of  Pofiibilities.  Cleanthes 
and  Archedemus  have  each  written  feparately  on  this 
Subjed.  Anti-pater  too  hath  written,  not  only  in 
his  Treatife  of  Pollibilities,  but  purpofely  in  a  Dif- 
courfe  on    the   ruling  Argument.     Have  not  you 

read  the  Work  ?     ''  No."     Read  it  then. And 

what  Good  will  it  do  him?  He  will  be  more 
trifling  and  impertinent  than  he  is  already.  For 
what  elfe  have  you  gained  by  reading  it  ?  What 
Principle  have  you  formed  upon  this  Subjed  }  But 
you  tell  us  of  Helen.^  and  Priam^  and  the  Ifle  of 
Cah.pfo^  which  never  was,  nor  ever  will  be.  And 
here,  indeed,  it  is  of  no  great  Confequence,  if  you 
retain  the  Story,  withcmt  forming  any  Principle  of 
your  own.  But  it  is  our  Misfortune  to  do  fo,  much 
more  in  Morality  than  upon  fuch  Subjeds  as^ 
thefe. 

§.  2.  Talk  to  me  concerning  Good  and  Evil  [e). 

Hear. 

'Ih:'  Wind  from  Ilium  to  the  Cicon's  Shore 

Hath  driven  me • 

Of 

(d)  Some  Philofophers  afFefled  to  fliow  their  Learning  at 
fuch  Times  ;  and  it  is  againft  this  idle  Oftentation  that  Epi£ietHs 
points  his  Diicourfe:  for  the  Study  of  Logic  itfelf,  under pro- 
pei-  Regulations,  he  often  ftrongly  recommends. 

(e)  This  I  apprehend  to  be  fpoken  by  one  of  the  Scholars  of 
EpiSietus  ;  who  feeing  the  Contempt  with  which  his  Mafter 
treats  logical  Subdeties,  in  the  foregoing  Paragraph,  defireshim 
to  difcourfe  upon  Ethics. 


Chap.  19:       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  163 

Of  Things,  fome  are  good,  fome  evil,  and  fome 
indifferent  Now  the  good,  are  the  Virtues,  and 
whatever  partakes  of  them  ;  and  the  evil,  Vices, 
and  what  partakes  of  Vice  :  the  indifferent,  lie  be- 
tween ihefe,  as  Riches,  Health,  Life,  Death,  Plea- 
fure,  Pain. 

Whence  do  you  know  this  ? 
Heilanicus  fays  it,    in  his  Egyptian  Hifhory  (f). 
For  what  doth  it  fignify,  whether  one  names  the 
H'li^iovy  of  HellanicuSy  or  the  Ethics  of  Diogenes^  or 
Chnjipptis^  or  Oeanthes  ?    Have  you  then  examin- 
ed any  of  thefe  Things,  and  formed  a  Principle  of 
your  own  ?     But  ftiow  me,  how  you  are  ufed  to 
exercife  yourfelf  on  Shipboard.     Remember  this 
Divifion  (g)^  when   the    Mail  rattles,    and  fome 
idle  Fellow  flands  by  you,  while  you  are  fcreaming, 
and  fays,  "  For  Heaven's  fake,  talk  as  you  did  a 
"  little  while  ago.     Is  it  Vice  to  fuifer  Shipwreck  ? 
''  Or  doth   it  partake  of  Vice?"    Would  not  you 
take  up  a  Log,  and  throw  it  at  his  Head  ?  "  W^hat 
*'  have  we  to  do  with  you,  Sir?     We  are  perifh- 
*'  ing,  and  you  come  and  jeft.'*     Again  :    if  Cafar 
fhould  fammon  you,  to  anfwer  an  Accufation,  Re- 
member the  Divifion.     If,  when  you  are  going  in, 
pale  and  trembling,  any  one  fliould  meet  you,  and 
fay,  ''  Why  do  you  tremble.  Sir?     What  is  this 
''  Affair  you  are  engnged  in  ?     Doth  Cafar  within, 
"  give  Virtue  and  Vice  to  thofe   who  approach 

''  him  ?" -"  What  do  you  too  infult  me,  and 

*'  add  to  my  Evils  r*' "  Nay,  but  tell  me, 

"  Phllofopher,  why  you  tremble  ?     Is  there  any  o- 

*^  tlicr  Danger,  but  Death,  or  a  Prifbn,  or  bodily 

M  2  "  Pain, 

(f)  Epi£htus  gives  this  abfurd  Reply  to  ridicule  the  Fond- 
nefs  of  his  Scholars  for  quoting  Authors,  and  making  a  Parade 
ot  their  Reading  :  and  infinuates,  that  it  is  not  at  all  material, 
'whether  a  Perfon,  who  on  fuch  Subjeds,  means  nothing  further 

jhan  Talk,  knows  what  he   is  talking  of,  or  blunders  about  it 
«ver  fo  grolsly. 

(g)  Of  Things  into  good,  evil,  and  indifFerent. 


i64  The  Vise  ov  fL^tB    cf        Book  H. 

**  Pain,  or  Exile,  or  Defamation  ?" "  Why 

«*  what  ftiould  there  be  elfe  ?*' "  Are  any  of 

**  thefe  Vice  ?  Or  do  they  partake  of  Vice  ? 
*'  What  then,  did  you  yourlelf  ufe  to  fay  cfthefe 

**  Things  ?" "  What  have  you  to  do  with  me, 

*'  Sir  ?    My  own  Evils  are  enough  for  me.*' 

**  You  fay  right.  Your  own  Evils  are  indeed  enough 
*'  for  you;  your  Bafenefs,  your  Cowardice,  and 
**  that  Arrogance,  by  which  you  were  elated,  as 
*'  you  fat  in  the  Schools.  Why  did  you  plume 
•*  yourfelf  with  what  is  not  your  own  ?  Why  did 
f  you  call  yourfelf  a  Stoic  ?'* 

§.  3.  Obferve  yourfelves  thus  in  your  Adions, 
and  you  will  find  of  what  Sed  you  are.  You  will 
find,  that  mofl  of  you  are  Epicureans  -,  a  few  Pe- 
tipatetics,  and  thofe  but  loofe  ones  {b).  For,  by 
what  Adion  will  you  prove,  that  you  think  Virtue 
equal,  and  even  fuperior,  to  all  other  Things  ? 
Show  me  a  Stoic,  if  you  have  one  (/).  Where  ? 
Or  how  fhould  you .?  You  can  Ihow,  indeed,  a 
Thoufand,  who  repeat  the  Stoic  Reafbnings.  But 
do  they  repeat  the  Epicurean  worfe  ?  Are  they  not 
juil  as  perfed  in  the  Peripatetic  ^  Who  then  is  a 
Stoic  ?  as  we  call  that  a  Phidian  Statue,  which  is 
formed  according  to  the  Art  of  Phidias ;  {o  (how 
me  fome  one  Perfon,  formed  according  to  the  Prin- 
ciples which  he  profeffes.  Show  me  one,  who  is 
fick,  and  happy  ;  in  Danger,  and  happy  ;  dying, 
and  happy  ;  exiled,  and  happy ;  difgraced,  and 
happy.  Show  him  me ;  for,  '  by  Heaven,  I  long 
to  fee  a  Stoic.  But  you  [will  fay]  you  have  not 
one  perfedly  formed.  Show  me  then  one  who  is 
forming:  one  who  is  approaching  towards  this 
Charadter.  Do  me  this  Favour.  Do  not  refufe 
an  old  Man  a  Sight  which  he   hath    never  yet 

feen, 

(h)  The  Peripatetics  hfeld  other  Things  belides  Virtue  to 
be  good  ;  but  not  in  near  fo  high  a  Degree. 
(i)  See  Note  ^,B.  ii.  c.  i6. 


Chap.  19.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  US.  165 

feen.  Do  you  fuppofe,  that  you  are  [afked]  to 
fhow  the  Jupiter  or  Minerva  of  Phidias^  a  Work  of 
Ivory  or  Gold  ?  Let  any  of  you  fhow  me  a  human 
Soul,  willing  to  have  the  fame  Sentiments  with 
thofe  of  God :  not  to  accufe  either  God  or  Man  : 
not  to  be  difappointed  of  its  DeHre,  or  incur  its 
Averfion :  not  to  be  angry :  not  to  be  envious  : 
not  to  be  jealous  :  in  a  Word,  willing  from  a  Man 
to  become  a  God  ;  and,  in  this  poor  mortal  Body, 
aiming  to  have  Fellowfliip  with  Jupiter.  Show 
him  to  me.  But  you  cannot.  Why  then  do  you 
impofe  upon  yourfelves,  and  phy  Tricks  with  o- 
thers  ?  Why  do  you  put  on  a  Drefs  not  your 
own  ;  and  walk  about  in  it,  mere  Thieves  and 
Pilferers  of  Names  and  Things,  which  do  not  be- 
long to  you  ?  Here,  I  am  your  Preceptor,  and 
you  come  to  be  inftrudted  by  me.  And  indeed  my 
Intention  is  to  fecure  you  from  being  reft  rained, 
compelled,  hindered :  to  make  you  free,  profpe- 
rous,  happy ;  looking  to  God  upon  every  Occafion, 
great  or  fmall.  And  you  come  to  learn  and  ftudy 
thefe  Things.  Why  then  do  not  you  finifli  your 
Work,  if  you  have  the  proper  Intention  -,  and  I, 
befides  the  Intention,  the  proper  Qualifications  ? 
What  is  wanting }  When  I  fee  an  Artificer,  and 
the  Materials  lying  ready,  I  exped  the  Work. 
Now  here  is  the  Artificer  ;  here  are  the  Materials ; 
what  is  it  we  want  ?  Is  not  the  Thing  capable  of 
being  taught }  It  is.  Is  it  not  in  our  own  Power 
then  ?  The  only  Thing  of  all  others  that  is  {.o. 
Neither  Riches,  nor  Health,  nor  Fame,  nor,  in 
fhort,  any  thing  elfe  is  in  our  Power,  except  a  right 
Uie  of  the  Appearances  of  Things.  This  alone  is, 
by  Nature,  not  fubjedl  to  Reftraint,  not  fubjed  to 
Hindrance.  Why  then  do  not  you  finifh  it  ?  Tell 
me  the  Caufe.  It  muft  be  by  my  Fault,  or  yours, 
or  from  the  Nature  of  the  Thing.  The  Thing 
itfelf  is  pradticable,  and  the  only  one  in  our  Pow- 
er, The  Fault  then  muft  be  either  in  me,  or  ia 
M  3  you. 


i66  ^be  Discourses  of        Book  II. 

you,  or,  more  truly,  in  both.  Well  then,  (hall 
we  now,  at  laft,  bring  this  Intention  along  with  us  P 
Let  us  lay  afide  all  that  is  pad.  Let  us  begin. 
Only  believe  me,  and  you  will  fee  the  Confe- 
quencc. 

CHAPTER    XX. 

Concerning  the  Epicureans,  and  Academics, 

§.  I.  'npRUE  and  evident  Propcfitions  muft,  of 
X  Necelfity,  be  ufed  even  by  thofe,  who 
contradi(5l  them.  And,  perhaps,  one  of  the  flrong- 
eft  Proofs,  that  there  is  fuch  a  Thing  as  Evidence, 
is  the  Neceifity  which  thofe,  who  contradid  it,  are 
under,  to  make  ufe  of  it.  If  a  Perlon,  for  In- 
fiance,  fhould  deny,  that  any  thing  is  univerfally 
true,  he  will  be  obliged  to  affert  the  contrary,  that 
nothing  is  univerfally  true.  What,  Wretch,  not 
even  this  itfelf .?  For  what  is  this,  but  to  fay,  that 
every  thing  univerfal  is  faUe.  Again :  if  any  one 
fhould  come,  and  fay,  *'  K./ow  that  there  is  nothing. 
*'  to  be  known  ;  but  all  Things  are  uncertain  :"  or 
another ;  *'  Believe  me,  and  it  will  be  the  better 
*'  for  you,  no  Man  ought  to  be  believed  in  any 
*'  thing  :"  or  a  Third,  "  Learn  from  me,  thatno- 
"  thing  is  to  be  learned  -,  I  tell  you  this,  and  will 
*'  teach  the  Proof  of  it,  if  you  pleafe."  Now 
what  Difference  is  there  between  fuch  as  thefe,  and 
thofe  who  call  themfelves  Academics  }  W^ho  fay  to 
lis,  "  Be  convinced^  that  no  one  ever  is  convinced 
"■  [on  good  Grounds].  Believe  us,  that  no  body 
'*  believes  any  body." 

§.  2.  Thus  alfb,  when  Epicurus  v/ould  deflroy 
the  natural  Relation  of  Mankind  to  each  other,  he 
makes  ufe  of  the  very  thing  he  is  deftroying.  For 
what  uoth  he  fay  }  *'  Be  not  deceived  ;  be  not  fe- 
*'  duqed,  and  miilaken.     There  is  no  natural  Re- 

"  lation 


Chap.  20.      E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  1^7 

*^  latjon  between    reafonable  Beings.     Believe  me. 
^*  1  hofe  who  fay  otherwife,  miilead  and  impofc 

^  upon  you  " Why  are  you  concerned  for  us 

then?  Let  us  be  deceived.  Tou  will  fare  never  the 
worfe,  if  all  the  reft  of  us  are  perfuaded,  that  there 
is  a  natural  Relation  between  Mankind  ;  and  that 
it  is  by  all  means  to  be  preferved.  Nay,  it  will  be 
much  lafer  and  better.  Why  do  you  give  yourfelf 
any  Trouble  about  us,  Sir  ?  Why  do  you  break 
your  Reft  for  us  .?  Why  do  you  light  your  Lamp  .? 
Why  do  you  rife  early  ^  Why  do  you  compofe  fo 
many  Volumes  ^  Is  it  that  none  of  us  fhould  be  de- 
ceived, concerning  the  Gods ;  as  if  they  took  any 
Care  of  Men  ?  Or  tliat  we  may  not  fup[:>ofe  the 
Eflenceof  Good  confifts  in  any  thing,  but  Pleafure.? 
For,  if  thefe  Things  be  fo,  lie  down  and  fleep, 
and  lead  the  Life  of  which  you  judge  yourfelf  wor- 
thy; that  of  a  mere  Reptile.  Eat  and  drink,  and 
fatisfy  your  FalTion  for  Women,  and  eafe  yourfelf 
and  fnore.  What  is  it  lb  you,  whether  others  think 
right  or  wrong  about  thefe  Things  ?  For  what 
have  you  to  do  with  us  .«*  You  take  care  of  Sheep, 
becaule  they  afford  us  their  Milk,  their  Wool,  and, 
at  laft,  their  Flefh.  And  would  it  not  be  a  defirable 
Thing  that  Men  might  be  fo  lulled  and  inchanted  by 
the  Stoics,  as  to  give  themfelves  up  to  be  milked 
and  fleeced  by  you,  and  fuch  as  you  ?  Should  not 
thefe  Dodrines  be  taught  to  your  Brother  Epicu- 
reans only,  and  concealed  from  the  reft  of  the 
World  ;  who  ftiould  by  all  means,  above  all  things, 
be  perfuaded,  that  we  have  a  natural  Relation  to 
each  other  :  and  that  Temperance  is  a  good  Thing, 
in  order  that  all  may  be  kept  fafe  for  you  ?  Or  is 
this  Relation  to  be  preferv<"d  towards  fome,  and  not 
towards  others }  Towards  whom  then,  is  it  to  be 
preferved  ^  Towards  fuch  as  mutually  preferve, 
or  fuch  as  violate  it }  And  who  violate  it  more, 
tlian  you,  who  teach  fuch  Dodrines  ^ 

M  4  §.  J. 

\ 


1 68  ^he  D  I  s  c  o  u  R  s  E  s  0/  Book  II. 

§.  3.   What  was  it  then,  that  waked  Epicurus 
from  his  Sleep  -,  and  compelled  him  to  write  what 
he  did  ?     What  elfe,  but  that  which  is  of  all  others 
the   mod    powerful  in   Mankind,  Nature;  which 
draws  every  one,  however  unwilling  and  reludtant, 
to  its  own  Purpofes.     For  fince,  fays  fhe,  you  think 
that  there  is  no  Relation  between  Mankind,  write 
this  Dodrine,  and  leave  it  for  the  Ufe  of  others ; 
and  break  your  Sleep  upon  that  Account ;  and,  by 
your  own  Pradtice,  confute  your  own  Principles. 
Do  we   fay,  that   Orejies  was  roufed  from  Sleep 
by  the  Agitation  of  the  Furies  ;  and  v/as  not  Epi- 
curus waked  by  Furies,  more  cruel  and  avenging, 
which  would  not  fjjffer  him  to  reft  ;  but  compelled 
him  to  divulge  his  own  Evils,  as  Wine  and  Mad- 
nefs  do  the  Priefts  of  Cyhele  f     So  ftrong  and  uncon- 
querable a  Thing  is  human  Nature !  For  how  can 
a  Vine  have  the  Properties  not  of  a  Vine,  but  of 
an  Olive  Tree  ?     Or  an  Olive  Tree,  not  thofe  of 
an  Olive   Tree,  but  of  a  Vine  ?     It  is  impolTible. 
It  is  inconceivable.     Neither,  therefore,  is  it  pofli- 
ble  for  a  human   Creature  intirely  to  lofe  human 
Affeftions.     But  even  thofe  who  have  undergone  a 
Mu-ilation,  cannot  have  their  Inclinations  alfo  mu- 
tilated :  and  fo  Epicurus^  when  he  had  mutilated  all 
the  Offices  of  a  Man,  of  a  Mafter  of  a  Family,  of 
a  Citizen,  and  of  a  Friend,  did  not  mutilate  the. 
Inclinations  of  Humanity  :  for  he  could  not,  any 
more  than  the  idle  Academics  can  throw  away,  or 
blind  their  own  benfes ;  though  this  be,  of  all  o- 
thers,  the  Point  they  labour  moft.     What  a  Mif- 
fortune  is  it,  when  any  one,  after  having  received, 
from  Nature,  Standards  and  Rules  for  the  Know- 
ledge of  Truth,  doth  not  ftrive  to  add  to  thefe,  and 
make  up  their  Deficiencies ;  but,  on  the  contrary, 
endeavours  to  take  away,  and  deilroy,  whatever 
Truth  may  be  known  even  by  them  ? 

§.4. 


Ch  ap.  20.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  165 

§.  4.    What  fay  you,  Philofopher  ?      What  do 
you  think  of  Piety  and  Sandity  ?  If  you  pleafe,  I 

will  prove,  that  they  are  good. Pray  do  prove 

it ;  that  our  Citizens  may  be  converted  (a),  and 
honour  the  Deity,  and  may  no  longer  neglect  what 

is  of  the  higheft  Importance. Have  you  the 

Proofs,  then  ? 1  have,  and  I  thank  you.     Since 

you  are  fo  well  pleafed  with  this  then,  learn  the 
contrary :  That  there  are  no  Gods ;  or,  if  there 
are,  that  they  take  no  Care  of  Mankind ;  neither 
have  we  any  Concern  with  them :  that  this  Piety 
andSandity,  which  is  fo  much  talked  of  by  many, 
is  only  an  Impofition  of  boafling  and  fbphiftical 
Men  ;  or,  perhaps,  of  Legislators,  for  a  Terror 
and  Reftraint  to  Injuftice.— ^ Well  done,  Philo- 
fopher. Our  Citizens  are  much  the  better  for  you. 
You  have  already  brought  back  all  the  Youth,  to  a 

Contempt  of  the  Deity. What!  <ioth  not  this 

pleafe  you,  then  ?  Learn  next,  that  Juftice  is  no- 
thing :  that  Shame  is  Folly :  that  the  paternal  Rela- 
tion is  nothing  ;  the  filial,  nothing.--— —Well 
faid,  Philofopher  :  perftft  ;  convince  the  Youth  : 
that  we  may  have  many  more,  to  think  and  talk 
like  you.  IBy  fuch  Dodrines  as  thefe,  have  our 
well-governed  States  flourifhed  ?  Upon  thefe  was 
Sparta  founded  !  Lycurgus^  by  his  Laws,  and  Me- 
thod of  Education,  introduced  fuch  Perfuafions  as 
thefe;  That  it  isjufl  as  honourable,  as  it  is  difho- 
nourable,  to  be  Slaves;  and jufl  as  difhonourabb, 
as  honourable,  to  be  free !  They  v/ho  died  at  Ther^ 
mopyU^  died  from  fuch  Principles  as  thefe!  And 
from  what  other  Dodrines  did  the  Athenians  leave 
their  City  (b)  I 

§.5. 

fa)  A  NewTeftament  Word, 

(h)  When  the  Athenians  found  themfelves  unable  to  refifl 
the  Forces  of  the  Perfians,  they  left  their  City  j  and,  having 
removed  their  Wives  and  Children,  and  their  movea'ole  Ef- 
feds,  to  Trazen  and  Salamisy  went  on  board  their  Ships,  and 
defended  the  Liberty  ot  Greece  by  their  Fleet,  Upton  /ram 
Cicero,  &c. 


170  The  Discourses  <?/        Book  II 

§.  5.  And  yet,  they  who  talk  thus,  marry,  and 
produce  Children ;  and  engage  in  public  Affairs, 
and  get  themfelves  made  Priefts  and  Prophets  (of 
whom?  Of  Gods  that  have  no  Exiflence);  and 
confult  the  Pyihian  Prieflefs,  only  to  hear  Fal- 
fhoods,  and  interpret  the  Oracles  to  others.  What 
monflroLi^  Impudence  and  Impofture ! 

§.6.  (c)  What  are  you  doing,  Man?  Youcon- 
tradid  yourfelf  every  Day ;  and  yet  you  will  not 
give  up  thefe  paultry  Cavils.  When  you  eat,  where 
do  you  carry  your  Hand  ?  To  your  Mouth,  or  to 
your  Eye  ?  When  you  bathe,  where  do  you  go  ? 
Do  you  ever  call  a  Kettle,  a  Difh  ;  or  a  Spoon,  a 
Spit?  If  I  were  a  Servant  to  one  of  thefe  Gentle- 
men, were  it  at  the  Hazard  of  being  flayed  every 
Day,  I  would  plague  him.  "  Throw  fome  Oil 
*'  into  the  Bath,  Boy."  I  would  take  Pickle,  and 
pour  upon  his  Head.  "  What  is  this  ?"  Really, 
Sir,  an  Appearance  ftruck  me  fo  perfedlly  alike, 
as  not  to  be  ditlinguifhed  from  Oil.  "  Give  me  the 
"  Soup."  I  would  carry  him  a  Difh  full  of  Vi- 
negar. "  Did  not  I  afk  for  the  Soup  ?*'^^ Yes,  Sir, 

this  is  the  Soup. — ''  Is  not  this  Vinegar  ?"  Why  fo, 
more  than  Soup  ?  "  Take  it  and  fmell  to  it,  take  it 
*'  and  tafte  it."  "  How  do  you  know  then,  but  our 
^'  Senfes  deceive  us  ?'*  If  I  had  three  or  four  Fel- 
low-fervants  to  join  with  me,  I  would  make  him 
cither  choke  with  PalHon,  and  burft,  or  change 
his  Opinions.  But  now  they  infulc  .us,  by  making 
ufe  of  the  Gifts  of  Nature,  while  in  Words,  they 
deflroy  them.  Grateful  and  rnodeft  Men,  truly ! 
Who,  if  there  were  nothing  elfe  in  the  Cafe,  while 
they  are  eating  their  daily  Bread,  dare  to  fay,  "  We 
"  do  not  know,  whether  there  be  any  CereSy  or 
*'  Profcipine^  or  Pluto  (d)''     Not  to  mention,  that 

while 

ft)  What  follows  is  agalnft  the  Academics,  who  denied  the 
Evidence  of  the  Senfes. 

fdj  By  thefe  Terms,  the  Stoics  meant  intelligent  Powers, 
joining,  to  brin^  the  Fruits  of  the  Earth  to  Maturity,  and  to 
carry  on  the  Courfe  of  Nature. 


Chap.  20.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  171 

while  they  enjoy  the  Night  and  Day,  the  Seafons  of 
the  Year,  the  Stars,  the  Earth  and  Sea,  they  are 
not  the  leafl  affeded  by  any  of  thefe  Things  ;  but 
only  (ludy  to  throw  out  fome  idle  Problem  ;  and, 
when  they  have,  cleared  their  Stomachs,  go  and 
bathe  :  but  take  not  the  lead  Care  what  they  fay  ; 
nor  on  what  Subjeds ;  nor  to  whom  ;  nor  what 
may  be  the  Confequence  of  their  Talk :  whether 
any  well-difpofed  young  Man,  by  hearing  fuch 
Dodrines,  may  not  be  afFeded  by  them,  and  fo 
afFeded  as  intirely  to  lofe  the  Seeds  of  his  good 
Difpofiuon  :  whether  they  may  not  furnifh  an  Adul- 
terer with  Occafions  of  growing  (hamelefs  in  his 
Guilt :  whether  a  public  Plunderer  may  not  find 
Excufes  from  thefe  Dodrines  :  whether  he,  who 
negleds  his  Parents,  may  not  gain  an  additional 

Confidence   from   them {e)  "  What   then,   in 

*'  your  Opinion,  is  good  and  evil,  fair  and  (/)  bafe  ; 

*'.  fuch  Things,  or  fuch  Things  P" Why  fhould 

one  fay  any  more  againft  fuch  Creatures  as  thefe, 
or  give  them  any  Account,  or  receive  any  from 
them,  or  endeavour  to  convince  them  ?  By  Ju* 
piUr,  one  might  fooner  hope  to  convince  the  mod 
unnatural  Debauchees,  than  thofe,  who  are  thus 
deaf  and  blind  to  their  own  Evils  {g), 

(e)  Thefe  feem  to  be  the  Words  of  the  Academic,  defirous 
of  begining  a  Difpute  with  Efi^etus,  to  revenge  himfelf,  by 
puzzling  him,  for  the  fevere  Things  which  he  had  been  faying 
againft  that  Sedl.  But  Epi£ietas  refufes  to  enter  into  it ;  and 
gives  his  Reafon. 

(f)  I  have  followed  Mr.  C7^/o«'s  Addition  ofaKr;^^;  but, 
perhaps,  even  xaXov  may  be  an  Addition,  firft  arifmg  trom  writ- 
ing 7)  xaxoy  twice  over. 

(g)  This  refembles  what  our  Saviour  faith  to  the  Jenvijh 
Rulers  ;  yerily  1  fay  unto  you  ^  that  the  Public  an  s  and  the  Harlots 
go  into  the  Kingdotn  of  God  before  you.     Matt.  xxi.  3 1. 


CHAP- 


172  *fbe  Discourses  of         Book  II. 

C  H  A  P  T  E  R    XXI. 

Of  Inconjiftency. 

§.  I.  np  HERE  are  fome  Things  which  Men 
A  confefs,  with  Eafe-,  others,  with  Diffi- 
culty. Noone,  forlnftance,  will  corifefs  himfelf  a 
Fool  or  a  Blockhead ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  yoii 
will  hear  every  one  fay,  "  I  wifh  my  Fortune  was 
*'  equal  to  my  Mind.**  But  they  eafily  confefs 
themfelves  fearful;  and  fay,  "  I  am  fomewhat 
*'  timorous,  I  confefs :  but  in  other  refpeds  you 
*'  will  not  find  me  a  Fool.'*  No  one  will  eafily 
confefs  himfelf  intemperate  in  his  Defires ;  upon 
no  Account  difhoneft,  nor  ablblutely  very  envious, 
or  meddling  :  but  many  confefs  themfelves  to  have 
the  Weaknefs  of  being  companionate.  What  is 
the  Reafon  of  all  this  ?  The  principal  is,  an  Incon- 
fiflency  and  Confufion  in  what  relates  to  Good  and 
Evil.  But  different  People  have  different  Induce- 
ments.. In  general,  whatever  they  imagine- to  be' 
bafe,  they  do  not  abfolutely  confefs.  Fear  and 
Companion,  they  im.agine  to  belong  to  a  well- 
meaning  Difpofition;  but  Stupidity,'  to  a  Slave. 
Offences  againfl  Society  they  do  not  own  :  but,  in 
moft  Faults,  they  are  brought  to  a  Confeflion, 
chiefly  from  im.agining,  that  there  is  fomething  in- 
voluntary in  them ;  as  in  Fear  and  Compaflion. 
And,  though  a  Perfon  {a)  fhould  in  fome  meafure 
confefs  himfelf  intemperate  in  his  Defires,  he  ac- 
cufes  his  Paflion,  and  expedts  Forgivenefs,  as  for 
an  involuntary  Fault.  But  Dillionefty  is  not  ima- 
gined to  be,  by  any  means,  involuntary.  In  Jea- 
loufy  too,  there  is  fomething,  they  fuppofe,  of 
involuntary  ;  and  this  likewife,  in  ibme  degree,  they 
9onfefs. 

§.  2. 

(a)  Mr.  Upton'z  Cop/i 


Chap.  21.       E  P  I  C  T  E  TU  S.  17^ 

§.  2.  Converfing  among  fuch  Men,  therefore, 
thus  confufed,  thus  ignorant  what  they  fay,  what 
are,  or  are  not,  their  Evils,  whence  they  have 
them,  and  how  they  may  be  delivered  of  them  ; 
it  is  worth  while,  I  think,  to  aik  one's  felf  continu- 
ally, "  Am  1  too  one  of  thefe  ?  What  do  I  ima- 
*'  gine  myfelf  to  be  ?  How  do  I  condud  myfelf  ? 
*'  As  a  prudent,  as  a  temperate  Man  ?  Do  I,  too, 
*'  ever  talk  at  this  Rate,  That  I  am  fufficiently  i-n- 
"  flruded  for  what  may  happen  ?  Have  I  that 
•'  Perfuafion,  That  1  know  nothing,  which  becomes 
*'  one  who  knows  nothing  ?  Do  I  go  to  a  Mafter, 
"  as  to  an  Oracle,  prepared  to  obey  ;  or  do  I,  as 
*'  well  as  others,  like  a  flupid  Driveller  (^),  enter 
•*  the  School,  only  to  learn  the  Hiilory  [ofPhilofo- 
*'  phy],  and  underfland  Books,  which  I  did  not 
•*  underfland  before ;  or,  perhaps,  to  explain  them 
"to  others  ?"  (c)  You  have  been  fighting  at  home, 
with  your  Servant,  Sir:  you  have  turned  the 
Houfe  upfide-down,  and  alarmed  the  Neighbour- 
hood: and  do  you  come  to  me,  with  a  pompous 
Show  of  Wifdom,  and  fit  and  pafs  Judgment  how 
I  explain  a  Sentence  ?  How  I  prate  whatever  comes 
into  my  Head  ?  Do  you  come,  envious  and  de- 
jeded,  that  nothing  is  brought  you  from  home  ? 
And,  in  the  midfl  of  the  Difputations,  fit  thinking 
on  nothing,  but  how  your  Father  or  your  Brother 
may  behave  to  you  ?  '  '^  What  are  they  faying  a- 
"  bout  me  at  home  ?  Now  they  think  I  am  im- 
"  proving  :  and  fay.  He  will  come  back  with  uni- 
"  verfal  Knowledge.  I  wifh  I  could  learn  every 
*'  thing  before  my  Return  :  but  this  requires  much 
*'  Labour  j  and  nobody  fends  me  any  thing.  The 

"  Baths 

(h)  We  have  no  Exprefllon  exaftly  like  that  in  the  Greek. 
The  TranQation  comes  theneareft  to  it,  of  any  1  could  think 
on. 

i  (c)  This  feema  to  be  fpoken  by  Epi£iituj,  to  one  of  his 
Scholars. 


<c 


i 74  The  Discourses  of        Book II. 

'*  Baths  are  very  bad  at  Nicopolis  ;  and  Things  go 

very  ill  both  at  home,  and  here." 

§.  3.  After  all  this,  it  is  Taid,  nobody  is  the  bet- 
ter for  the  philofophic  School.  Why,  who  comes 
to  the  School  ?  1  mean,  who  comes  to  be  reform- 
ed ?  Who,  to  fubmit  his  Principles  to Corredlion  ? 
Who,  with  a  Senfe  of  his  Wants }  Why  do  you 
wonder  then,  that  you  bring  back  from  the  School, 
the  very  Thing  you  carried  there.  For  you  do  not 
come  to  lay  afide,  or  corretfl,  or  change,  your 
Principles.  How  Iliould  you  }  Far  from  it.  Ra- 
ther confider  this,  therefore,  whether  you  have  not 
what  you  come  for.  You  come  to  talk  about; 
Theorems.  Well :  and  are  not  you  more  imperti- 
nently talkative  than  you  were  .^^  Do  not  thefe  paul- 
try  Theorems  furnifh  you  with  Matter  for  Often ta- 
tion  ?  Do  not  you  folve  convertible  and  hypothe- 
tical Syllogifms  ^  W^hy  then,  are  you  ftill  difpleafed, 
if  you  have  the  very  Thing  for  which  you  came  ^ 

"  Very  true  :  but,  if  my  Child,   or  my  Bro- 

*'  ther,  fhould  die ;  or  if  I  muft  die,  or  be  tor- 
*'  tured  myfelf,  what  Good  will  thefe  Things  do 

*'  me?" Why,  did  you  come  for  I  his  F    Did 

you  attend  upon  me  for  ibis  ?  Was  it  upon  any 
fuch  Account,  that  you  ever  lighted  your  Lamp, 
or  fat  up  at  Night .?  Or  did  you,  when  you  went 
into  the  Walk,  propofe  any  Appearance  to  your 
own  Mind  to  be  difcufTed,  inftead  of  a  Syllogifm  i* 
Did  any  of  you  ever  go  through  fuch  a  Subject 
jointly  ?  And,  after  all,  you  fay.  Theorems  are 
ufelefs.  To  whom  }  To  fuch  as  apply  them  ill. 
For  Medicines  for  the  Eyes  are  not  ufelefs  to  thofe, 
who  apply  them  when,  and  as,  they  ought.  Fo- 
mentations are  not  ufelefs :  Poifers  are  not  ufelefs : 
but  they  are  ufelefs  to  fbme  ;  and,  on  the  contra- 
ry, ufeful  to  others.  If  you  fhould  afk  me  now. 
Are  Syllogifms  ufeful .?  I  anfwer,  that  they  are 
ufeful;    and,    if   you,  pleafe,    I  will     Ihow  you 

how.  - 


Chap.  22.      E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  ,75 

how  {d). «  Will  they  be   of  Service  to  me 

''  then  ?•'. Why  :  did  you  afk,  Man,   whether 

they  would  be  ufeful  to  you,  or  in  general  ?  If 
any  one  in  a  Dyfentery  fhould  afk  me,  whether 
Acids  be  ufeful ;  I  anfwer.  They  are.     "  Are  they 

"  ufeful  for  me,  then  .? 1  jay,  No.     Firft  try 

to  get  the  Flux  ftopt,  and  the  Exulceration  healed 
Do  you  too  firft  get  your  Ulcers  healed  ;  your 
Fluxes  ftopt.  Quiet  your  Mind,  and  bring  it  free 
from  Diftraftion,  to  the  School ;  and  then  you  will 
know  what  is  the  Force  of  Reafoning. 

CHAPTER    XXII. 

Of  Friendjhip. 

5.  I.  Tp  O  whatever  Objeds  a  Perfon  devotes 

X    his  Attention,  theie  Objeds  he,  pro- 

bably,  loves.     Do  Men  ever  devote  their  Attention 

then,  to  Evils  ? By  no  means. -Or  even 

to^  what  doth   not  concern  them  ?— No  •  nor 

fT'7:r~:\  '?"'^^"'  ^^'^"'  ^^^^  ^''^  niuft  be  the 
iole  Objeclof  their  Attention;  and,  if  of  their  At- 
tention,  of  their  Love  too.  Whoever,  therefore 
iinderftands  Good,  is  capable  likewife  of  Love  • 
and  he  who  cannot  diflinguifh  Good  from  Evif 
and  Things  indifferent  from  both,  how  is  it  polli- 
ble,  that  he  can  love }  The  prudent  Perfon  done 
then,  is  capable  of  loving 

lovfnTy Child.'"" "°'  ''"P"''"'  p^^'"^"'  y«^ 

firft  ^'T^  ''  '""rP/'""'  '^''  *'^^^  y°"  "^""W,  in  the 
firft  place,   confefs   yourfelf  imprudent.      For  in' 
what  are  you  deficient  >     Have  not  you  the  \2(^  of 
your  Senfes  ?     Do  not  you  diftinguifh  the  Appear- 
ances of  Things  ?     Do  not  you  p'rovide  fuchS, 

and 

«i/^o^  «  S^  ''  P°'""='^  ='  '"^"^"'  •>"  ^^  Se.ft  require. 


lyS  ^he  Djscourses.(?/        Book  11. 

and  Cloathing,  and  Habitation,  as  are  fuitable  to 
you?  Why  then  do  you  confefs,  that  you  want 
Prudence  ?  In  truth,  becaufe  you  are  often  ftruck, 
and  difconcerted  by  Appearances,  and  their  Speci- 
oufnefs  gets  the  better  of  you  -,  and  hence  you 
fomeiimes  fuppofe  the  very  fame  Things  to  be 
good,  then  evii,  and,  laflly,  neither :  and,  in  a 
word,  you  grieve,  you  fear,  you  envy,  you  are 
difconcerted,  you  change.  Is  it  from  hence,  that 
you  confeis  yourfelf  imprudent  ?  And  are  you  not 
changeable  too  in  Love  ?  Riches,  Pleafure,  in 
ihort,  the  very  fame  Things,  you  at  fome  times 
efleem  good,  and  at  others,  evil  :  and  do  not  you 
efleem  the  fame  Perfons  too,  alternately  good  and 
bad  ?  And,  at  one  time,  treat  them  with  Kind- 
nels,  at  another,  with  Enmity?  One  time,  com- 
mend, and  at  another,  cenfure  them  ? 

Yes.     This  too  is  the  Cafe,  with  me. 

Well  then,    can  he  who  is  deceived  in  another^ 
be  his  Friend,  think  you  ? 

No,  furely. 

Or  doth  he,  who  loves  him  with  a  changeable 
Affedion,  bear  him  genuine  Good-will  ? 

Nor  he,  neither. 

Or  he,  who  now  vilifies,  then  admires  him  ? 

Nor  he. 

Do  you  not  often  fee  little  Dogs  carefling,  and 
playing  with  each  other,  that  you  would  fay,  no- 
thing could  be  more  friendly  :  but,  to  learn  what 
this  Friendfhip  is,  throw  a  Bit  of  Meat  between 
them,  and  you  will  fee.  Do  you  too  throw  a  Bit 
of  an  Eftate,  betwixt  you  and  yotir  Son,  and  you 
will  fee,  that  he  will  quickly  wifh  you  under 
Ground,  and  you  him  :  and  then  you,  no  doubt, 
on  the  other  hand,  will  exclaim  *,  What  a  Son 
have  I  brought  up !  He  would  bury  me  alive ! 
Throw  in  a  pretty  Girl,  and  the  old  Fellow  and 
the  young  one  will,  both,  fall  in  Love  with  her  : 

or 


Chap.  22.      E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  177 

or  let  Fame   or  Danger  intervene,  the  Words  of 
the  Father  of  Admetus  will  be  yours  a) : 

Tou  hold  Life  dear :   Doih  not  your  Father  too  ? 

'  Do  you  fuppofe,  that  he  did  not  love  his  own 
Child,  when  he  was  a  little  one }  That  he  was 
not  in  Agonies,  when  he  had  a  Fever ;  and  often 
wifhed  to  undergo  that  Fever  in  his  flead  ?  But, 
after  all,  when  the  Trial  comes  home,  you.iee 
what  ExprefTions  he  ufes.  Were  not  Eteotles  and 
Polynkes  born  of  the  fame  Mother,  and  of  the  fame 
Father  .?  Were  they  not  brought  up,  and  did  they 
not  live,  and  eat,  and  deep,  together .?  Did  not 
they  kifs  and  fondle  each  other .?  So  that  any  one, 
who  faw  them,  would  have  laughed  at  all  the  Pa- 
radoxes,   which    Philofophers  utter    about  Love. 

(a)  Admetusy  King  o^fheffaly,  being  deftined  to  die,  JpoIIa 
obtained  a  Reverfal  of  his  Sentence  from  the  Fates,  on  Condi- 
tion, that  fome  Perfon  could  be  found  to  die  in  his  ftead.  Jd- 
metus  tried  all  his  Friends,  and,  among  the  reft,  his  Father, 
Pheres  ;  but  no  one  chofe  to  be  his  Reprefentative,  but  his 
Wife,  Alcefiis.  After  her  Death,  Pheres  is  introduced  prepar- 
ing Honours  for  her  Funeral,  and  condoling  with  his  Son,  on 
her  Lofs.  Admetus  rtjedls  his  Prefents,  with  great  Indignation  ; 
and  makes  him  the  fevereft  Reproaches,  on  his  Cowardice  and 
Mean-fpiritedncfs,  in  not  parting  with  a  few  remaining  Years  of 
Life,  to  fave  his  Son  from  an  untimely  Death  ;  and  in  fuffering 
Alcefiis  to  defcend  to  the  Grave  for  him,  in  the  Bloom  of 
Youth.  The  Quotation  made  by  Epidetusy  is  Part  of  the 
Anfwer  of  Pheres,  to  the  Reproaches  of  his  Son. 

Some  of  the  fineft  and  moft  touching  Parts  of  the  Dialogue, 
in  Ed~ivard  and  Eleonora,  are  taken  from  the  Alcejiis;  but  Mr. 
Thorn/on  is  much  happier,  in  the  Condud  of  his  Story,  than 
Euripides.  Eleonora  expofes  herfelf  to  Death,  againft  the  Con- 
fent,  and  without  the  Knowledge,  of  her  Huiband  i  which  by. 
no  means  appears  to  have  been  the  Cafe  o'i  Alcefiis.  This  Cir- 
cumttance  renders  Admetusy  a  moft  defpicable  Charadler, 
throughout  the  Play ;  and  the  Reproaches  which  he  throws 
upon  Pheres  appear  abfurd,  and  Ihocking.  It  is  a  little  remark- 
able, that  Epiaetus  lliould  treat  the  Father  with  fo  much  Con- 
tempt, and  bellow  none  on  the  Son,  to  whom  it  was,  at  leaft 
equally,  due.    See  B.  III.  c.  20.  §.  i, 

N  And 


1 78  ^he  Discourses    of        Book  II. 

And  yet,  when  a  Kingdom,  like  a  Bit  of  Meat, 
was  thrown  betwixt  them,  fee  what  they  fay,  and 
how  eagerly  they  wifh  to  kill  each  other  {b).  For 
uhiverfally,  be  not  deceived,  no  Animal  is  attached 
to  any  thing  fo  ftrongly,  as  to  its  own  Intereft. 
"Whatever  therefore,  appears  a  Hindrance  to  that, 
be  it  Brother,  or  Father,  or  Child,  or  Miftrefs,  or 
Friend,  is  hated,  abhorred,  execrated ;  for,  by 
Nature,  it  loves  nothing  like  its  own  Intereft.  This 
is  Father,  and  Brother,  and  Family,  and  Country, 
and  God  {c).  Whenever  therefore,  the  Gods  leem 
to  hinder  this,  we  vilify  even  them,  and  throw 
down  their  Statues,  and  burn  their  Temples  ;  as 
Alexander  ordered  the  Temple  of  Efculapius  to  be 
burnt,  becaufe  he  had  loft  the  Man  he  loved. 

§.  2.  Whenever  therefore,  any  one  makes  his 
Intereft  to  confift  in  the  fame  thing  with  Sandity, 
Virtue,  his  Country,  Parents,  and  Friends,  all  thefe 
are  fecured  :  but,  where-ever  they  are  made  to  in- 
terfere. Friends,  and  Country,  and  Family,  and 
Juftice  itfelf,  all  give  way,  borne  down  by  the 
Weight  of  Self-intereft.  For  wherever  /and  mine 
are  placed,  thither  muft  every  Animal  gravitate. 
If  in  Body,  that  will  fway  us ;  if  in  Choice,  that ; 
if  in  Externals,  thefe.  If  therefore,  1  be  placed 
in  a  right  Choice,  then  only,  I  ftiall  be  a  Friend,  a 
Son,  or  a  Father,  fuch  as  I  ought.  For,  in  that 
Cafe,  it  will  be  for  my  Intereft  to  preferve  the  faith- 
ful,  the  modeft,  the  patient,  the  abftinent,  the 
beneficent.  Character ;  to  keep  the  Relations  of 
Life  inviolate.  But,  if  I  place  my  felf  in  one  Thing, 
and  Virtue  in  another,  the  Dodrine  of  Epicurus  will 

ftand 


fh)  The  Original  quotes  fome  Verfes  from  Euripides,  of  a 
Dialogue  between  Eteocles  and  Polynicesy  before  the  Walls  of 
Thebes',  of  which  the  Tranflation  gives  the  general  Senfe. 

(c)  See  Matt.  xii.  50. 


Chap.  22.      EPICTETUS.  179 

fland  its  Ground,  That  Virtue  is  nothing,  or  mere 
Opinion  (d). 

§.  3.  From  this  Ignorance  it  was,  that  the  Jth- 
fiians  and  Lacedemonians  quarrelled  with  each  other ; 
and  the  Thebans  with  both  :  the  Perfian  King,  with 
Greece  ;  and  the  Macedonians^  with  both  :  and  now 
the  Romans^  with  the  Geles.  And,  in  flill  remoter 
Times,  the  Trojan  War  arofe  from  the  fame  Caufe. 
Paris  was  the  Guefl  of  Menelans  ;  and  whoever 
had  feen  the  mutual  Proofs  of  Good-wiU,  that 
paffed  between  them,  would  never  have  believed, 
that  they  were  not  Friends.  But  a  tempting  Bit, 
a  pretty  Woman,  was  thrown  in  between  them ; 
and  for  this  they  went  to  War.  At  prefent,  there- 
fore, when  you  fee  dear  Brothers  have,  in  Appear- 
ance, but  one  Soul,  do  not  immediately  pronounce 
upon  their  Friendlhip ;  not  though  they  fhould 
fwear  it,  and  affirm  it  was  impoflible  to  live  afun- 
der.  (For  the  governing  Faculty  of  a  bad  Man  is 
faithlefs,  unfettled,  injudicious ;  fucceflively  van- 
quiilied  by  different  Appearances).  But  inquire, 
not  as  others  do,  whether  they  were  born  of  the 
fame  Parents,  and  brought  up  together,  and  under 
the  fame  Preceptor  -,  but  this  Thing  only,  in  what 
they  place  their  Interefl ;  in  Externals,  or  in 
Choice.  If  in  Externals,  no  more  call  them  Friends, 
than  faithful,  or  conilant,  or  brave,  or  free  ;  nay, 
nor  even  Men,  if  you  are  wife.  For  it  is  no  Prin- 
ciple of  Humanity,  that  makes  them  bite  and  vili- 
fy each  other  -,  and  take  PoileiTion  of  public  AlTem- 
blies,  as  wild  Beafls  do  of  Solitudes  and  Mountains ; 
N  2  and 

(d)  By /elf  IS  here  meant  the  proper  Good,  or,  as  Solomon 
cxpreires  it,  EccL  xii.  13.  7he  Whole  of  Man.  The  Stoic  proves 
excellently,  the  Inconvenience  of  placing  this,  in  any  thing 
but  a  right  Choice  (a  right  Difpofition  and  Behaviour) :  but  how 
it  is  the  Intereft  of  each  Individual,  in  every  Cafe,  to  make 
that  Choice,  in  Preference  to  prefent  Pleafure,  and  in  Defiance 
of  prefent  Sufferings,  appears  only  from  the  Doi^riiie  of  a  fu- 
ture Recompcnce. 


1 80  ^he  Discourses  of        Book  II. 

and^  convert  Courts  of  Juftice  into  Dens  of  Rob- 
bers: nor  that  prompts  them  to  be  intemperate. 
Adulterers,- Seducers -jx  or  leads  them  into  other 
Offences,  that  Men  commit  againft  each  other, 
from  the  one  fmgle  Principle,  by  which  they  place 
themfelves,  and  their  own  Concerns,  in  Things 
independent  on  Choice. 

§.  4.  But,  if  you  hear,  that  thefe  Men,  in  reality 
fuppofe  Good  to  be  placed  only  in  Choice,  and  in  a 
right  Ufe  of  the  Appearances  of  Things  \  no  lon- 
ger take  the  trouble  of  inquiring,  if  they  are  Fa- 
ther and  Son,  or  old  Companions  and  Acquaint* 
ance  •,  but  as  boldly  pronounce,  that  they  are 
Friends,  as  that  they  are  faithful  andjuft.  For  where 
elfe  can  Friendfhip  be  met,  but  with  Fidelity  and 
Modelly,  and  a  Communication  {e)  of  Virtue ;  and 
of  no  other  Thing  ? 

Well:  but  fuch  a  one  paid  me  the  utmofl 
Regard,  for  fo  long  a  Time  •,  and  did  not  he  love 
me  ? 

How  can  you  tell,  Wretch,  if  that  Regard  be 
any  other  than  he  pays  to  his  Shoes,  or  his  Horfe, 
when  he  cleans  them  f  And,  how  do  you  know, 
but  when  you  ceafe  to  be  a  neceffary  tJtenfil,  he 
may  throw  you  away,  like  a  broken  Stool  ? 

Well  :  but  it  is  my  Wife  ;  and  we  have  lived  to- 
gether many  Years. 

And  how  many  did  Eriphyk  live  with  Amphia- 
raus  \  and  was  the  Mother  of  Children,  and  not  a 
few  .?  But  a  Bracelet  fell  in  between  them.  What 
>vas  this  Bracelet  ^  The  Principle  [fhe  had  formed] 
concerning  fuch  Things.  This  turned  her  into  a 
favage  Animal :  this  cut  afunder  all  Love  ;  and 
fufFered  neither  the  Wife,  nor  the  Mother,  to  con- 
tinue fuch  (/'). 

§•5. 

(e)  Perhaps  ^ar^q^  in  the  Greek,  fhould  be  ha,hcr%^. 

(f)  Jtnphiaraus  married    Eriphyky    the    Silter    of  AdraJluSy 
Kingofy^r^cj,     He  was  an  excellent  Soolhfayer ;  and,  by  his 

Skill, 


Chap.  23.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  i8l 

§.  5.  Whoever  therefore,  among  you,  fludies 
to  be,  or  to  gain  a  Friend,  let  him  cut  up  all  thefe 
Principles  by  the  Root ;  hate  them ;  drive  them 
utterly  out  of  his  Soul.  Thus,  in  the  firfl  place, 
he  will  be  fecure  from  inward  Reproaches,  and 
Contefls ;  from  Change  of  Mind,  and  Self-torment. 
Then,  with  refped  to  others ;  to  every  one,  like 
himfelf,  he  will  be  unreferved.  To  fuch  as  are 
unlike,  he  will  be  patient,  mild,  gentle,  and  ready 
to  forgive  them,  as  failing  in  Points  of  the  greatefl 
Importance  :  but  fevere  to  none  ;  being  fully  con- 
vinced of  Plato's  Dodtrine,  that  the  Soul  is  never 
willingly  deprived  of  Truth.  Without  all  this, 
you  may,  in  many  Refpeds,  live  as  Friends  do  *, 
and  drink,  and  lodge,  and  travel  together,  and  be 
born  of  the  fame  Parents ;  and  fo  may  (g)  Ser- 
pents too  :  but  neither  they,  nor  you,  can  ever  be 
Friends,  while  you  have  thefe  brutal  and  execrable 
Principles. 

CHAPTER    XXIII. 

Of  the  Faculty  of  Speaking, 

§.  I.  A  BOOK  will  always  be  read  with  the 
JlSl.  greater  Pleafure,  and  Eafe  too,  if  it  be 
written  in  a  fair  Charader  :  therefore  every  one  will 
the  more  eafily  attend  to  Difcourfes  likewife,  orna- 
mented with  proper  and  beautiful  Expreffions.  It 
(a)  ought  not  then  to  be  faid,  that  there  is  no  fuch 
N  3  Thing 

Skill,  forefaw,  that  it  would  prove  fatal  to  him,  if  he  engaged 
himfelf  in  iheTheban  War.  Wherefore,  to  avoid  inevitable 
Deftru6lion,  he  hid  himfelf:  but  w^as  difcovered  by  his  Wife 
Eriphyle,  whom  Polynices  had  corrupted,  with  a  Prefent  of  a 
golden  Chain.     Statius'j  IhebaiSy  L.  VI. 

{g)   Mr.  Upton  z  Copy. 

\a)  Thefe  are  the  Words  of  Epiaetus  j  to  which  there  are 
others  equivalent  afterwards.      His   Meaning,   probably,    is, 

that 


1 8  2  ^he  Discourses  of  Book  U. 

Thing  as  the  Faculty  of  Elocution :  for  this  would 
be  at  once  the  Part  of  an  impious  and  fearful  Per- 
fon  (b).  Impious ;  becaufe  he  difhonours  the  Gifts 
of  God  ;  jufl  as  if  he  iTiould  deny  any  Ufe  in  the 
Faculty  of  Sight,  Hearing,  and  Speech  itfelf  Hath 
God  then  given  you  Eyes  in  vain  ?  Is  it  in  vain, 
that  he  hath  infufed  into  them,  fuch  a  ftrong  and 
active  Spirit,  as  to  be  able  to  reprefent  the  Forms  of 
diflant  Objeds  {c)  ?  What  Meffenger  is  fo  quick 
and  diligent  ?  Is  it  in  vain,  that  he  hath  made  the 
intermediate  Air,  fo  yielding,  and  elallic,  that  the 
Sight  penetrates  through  it  ?  And  is  it  in  vain, 
that  he  hath  made  the  Light ;  without  which  all 
the  reft  would  be  ufelefs  ?  Man,  be  not  ingrateful ; 
nor,  on  the  other  hand,  unmindful  of  your  fupe- 
rior  Advantages  (d)  :  but  for  Sight,  and  Hearing, 
and  indeed  for  Life  itfelf  and  the  Supports  of  it, 
as  Fruits,  and  Wine,  and  Oil,  be  thankful  to  God  : 
but  remember,  that  he  hath  given  you  another 
I'hing,  fuperior  to  them  all ;  which  makes  ufe  of 
them,  proves  them,  eftimates  the  Value  of  each  {e). 
For  what  is  it  that  pronounces  upon  the  Value  of 
each  of  thefe  Faculties  ?  Is  it  the  Faculty  itfelf? 
Did  you  ever  perceive  the  Faculty  of  Sight  or  Hear- 
ing, to  fay  any  thing  concerning  itfelf?  Or  Wheat, 
or  Barley,  or  Horfes,  or  Dogs  ?  No.  Thefe 
Things  are  appointed  as  Inftruments  and  Servants, 

to 

that  the  Value  and  Ufefulnefs  of  the  Facult/  of  Elocution 
ought  not  to  be  denied  :  in  Oppofition  to  the  Dodlrine  ot  Epi- 
t'urusy  who  declared  all  the  liberal  Arts  and  Sciences  to  be  ufe- 
lefs and  mifchievous.  See  Diog.  Laert.  L.  X.  §.  6.  and  Me- 
nage's Notes  there. 

(If)  He  proves  the  Timidity  at  the  Beginning  of  §.  3. 

{c)  It  was  an  old  Notion,  that  Vifion  was  performed  by  the 
Eraiffion  of  Rays  from  the  Eye  to  theObje6>,  not  the  Admifll* 
on  of  Rays  from  the  Obje(5l  into  the  Eye  j  and  to  this  EpiSietus 
here  refers. 

{d)  Mr.  Upton  gives  a  different  Senfe  to  xpsia-o'ovuv ;  but  I 
think,  that  both  ttoAiv,  and  what  afterwards  follows,  juftifies  the 
Eng/iJ^  Trsindaiion. 

(e)  See  B.  I.  c.  i. 


Chap.  23.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  183 

to  obey  that  which  is  capable  of  ufing  the  Appear- 
ances of  Things.  If  you  inquire  the  Value  of  any 
thing ;  of  wbai  do  you  inquire  ?  What  is  it  that 
anfwers  you  (f)  ?  How  then  can  any  Faculty  be 
fiiperior  to  this ;  which  both  ufes  all  the  reft  as  In- 
ftruments,  and  tries  and  pronounces  concerning 
each  of  them  ?  For  which  of  them  knows,  what 
itfelf  is;  and  what  is  its  own  Value?  Which  of 
them  knows,  when  it  is  to  be  ufed,  and  when  not  ? 
Which  is  it,  that  opens  and  Ihuts  the  Eyes,  and 
turns  them  away  from  improper  Objeds  ?  Is  it  the 
Faculty  of  Sight  ?  No  :  but  that  of  Choice.  Which 
is  it,  that  opens  and  fhuts  the  Ears  ?  What  is  it,  by 
which  they  are  made  curious  and  inquifitive  ;  or,  on 
the  contrary,  deaf,  and  unafFeded  by  what  is  faid  ? 
Is  it  the  Faculty  of  Hearing  ?  No :  but  that  of 
Choice.  Will  this  then,  perceiving  itfelf  to  exift  in 
[Man  amidft]  the  other  Faculties,  [which  are]  all 
blind  and  deaf,  and  unable  to  difcern  any  thing, 
but  thofe  Offices,  in  which  they  are  appointed  to 
minifter,  and  be  fubfervient  to  it ;  and  that  itfelf 
alone  fees  clearly,  and  diftinguifhes  the  Value  of 
each  of  the  reft ;  will  this,  1  fay,  inform  us,  that 
any  thing  is  ftipreme,  but  itfelf  ?  What  doth  the 
Eye,  when  it  is  opened,  do  more,  than  fee  ?  But 
whether  we  ought  to  look  upon  the  Wife  of  any 
one,  and  in  what  manner,  what  is  it  that  tells  us  ? 
The  Faculty  of  Choice.  Whether  we  ought  to  be- 
lieve, or  to  din)elieve  what  is  faid  ;  or  whether,  if 
we  do  believe,  we  ought  to  be  moved  by  it,  or 
not  i  what  is  it  that  tells  us  ?  Is  it  not  the  Faculty 
of  Choke  ?  Again  :  the  very  Faculty  of  Elocution, 
and  that  which  ornaments  Difcourfe,  if  there  be 
any  fuch  peculiar  Faculty,  what  doth  it  more, 
than  merely  ornament  and  arrange  Expreflions,  as 

N  4  Curlers 

(f)  Tlie  Hearer  is  underftood  in  this  Place  to  fay.  The  Fa- 
culty of  Choice.  It  is  not  improbable,  however,  that  the 
Greek  Word  wgoa»ftTtx*j,  may  have  been  omitted  in  tranfcribing. 


i84  The  Di^c  ov  V.SZS  of  Book II. 

Curlers  do  the  Hair  ?  But  whether  it  be  better  to 
fpeak,  or  to  be  filent ;  or  better  to  fpeak  in  this,  or 
in  that  Manner;  whether  this  be  decent,  or  inde- 
cent ;  and  the  Seafon  and  Ufe  of  each ;  what  is  it 
that  tells  us,  but  the  Faculty  of  Choice  ?  What 
then,  would  you  have  it  appear,  and  bear  Tefli- 
mony  againfl  itfelf  ?  What  means  this  ?  If  the 
Cafe  be  thus,  that  which  ferves,  may  be  fuperior  to 
that  to  which  it  is  fubfervient  ;  the  Horfe  to  the 
Rider  ;  the  Dog,  to  the  Hunter  ;  the  Inilrument, 
to  the  Mufician  ;  or  Servants  to  the  King.  What 
is  it  that  makes  ufe  of  al\  the  reft  ?  Choice,  What 
takes  care  of  all  ?  Choice.  What  deftroys  the 
whole  Man,  at  one  time,  by  Hunger ;  at  another, 
by  a  Rope,  or  a  Precipice  ?  Choice.  Hath  Man, 
then,  any  thing  ftronger  than  this  ?  And  how  is  it 
pollible,  that  what  is  liable  to  Reftraint  fhould  be 
ftronger,  than  what  is  not  ?  What  hath  a  natural 
Power  of  hindering  the  Faculty  of  Sight  ?  Both 
Choice,  and  what  depends  on  Choice.  And  it  is 
the  fame  of  the  Faculties  of  Hearing  and  Speech. 
And  what  hath  a  natural  Power  of  hindering 
Choice?  Nothing  independent  on  itfelf,  only  its 
own  Perverfion.  Therefore  Choice  alone  is  Vice  : 
Choice  alone  is  Virtue. 

§.  2.  Since,  then,  Choice  is  fuch  a  Faculty,  and 
placed  in  Authority  over  all  the  reft,  let  it  come 
forth  and  fay  to  us,  that  the  Body  is,  of  all  Things, 
the  moft  excellent.  If  even  the  Body  itfelf  pro- 
nounced itfelf  to  be  the  moft  excellent,  it  could  not 
be  borne.  But  now,  what  is  it,  Epicurus^  that  pro- 
nounces all  this  .?  What  was  it,  that  compofed 
Volumes,  concerning  {g)  the  End  of  [Being],  the 
ig)  Nature  of  Things,  the  {g)  Rule  [of  Reafon- 
ing]  ;  that  afTumed  a  ,  philofophic  Beard  ;  that,  as 
it  was  dying,  wrote,  that  it  was  then  /pending  its 

lafi 

(g)  Celebrated  Treatlfes  on  thefe  Subjeds,  compofed  by 
Epicurus^ 


Chap.  23-       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  185 

ia/i  and  happiefl  Day  {h)  ?     Was  this.  Body,  or  was 
it  the  Faculty  of  Choice  ?    And  can  you  then,  with- 
out Madnefs,  confefs  any  thing  fuperior   to  this  ? 
Are  you  in  reahty  fo  deaf  and  blind  ?     What  then, 
doth  any  one,  difhonour  the  other  Faculties  ?  Hea- 
ven forbid !     Doth  any  one  deny,  that  the  Faculty 
of  Sight  {i)  is  ufeful,  and  preferable  [to  the  Want 
of  itj  ?     Heaven  forbid !     It  would  be  ftupid,  im- 
pious, and  ungrateful  to  God.     But  we  render  to 
each  its  Due.     There  is  fome  Ufe  of  an  Afs,  tho* 
not  (b  much  as  of  an  Ox  j  and  of  a  Dog,  though  not 
fo  much  as  of  a  Servant ;  and  of  a  Servant,  though 
not  fo  much  as  of  the  Citizens ;  and  of  the  Citiz- 
ens, though  not  fu  much  as  of  the  Magiflrates. 
And,  though  fome  are  more  excellent  than  others, 
thofe  Ufes,  which  the  laf.  afford,  are  not  to  be  def- 
pifed.     The  Faculty  of  Elocution  hath  its  Value, 
though  not  equal  to  that  of  Choice.     When  there- 
fore! talk  thus,  let  not  any  one  fuppofe,  that  I 
would  have  you  negledl  Elocution,  any  more  than 
your  Eyes,  or  Ears,  or  Hands,  or  Feet,  or  Clothes, 
or  Shoes.     But  if  you  afk  me,  what  is  the   moft 
excellent  of  Things,  what  fhall  I   fay }    I  cannot 
fay.  Elocution  j  but  a  right  Choice :  for  it  is  that 
which  makes  ufe  of  this,  and  all  the  other  Facul- 
ties, whether  great  or  fmall.     If  this  be  fet  right,  a 
bad  Man  becomes  good ;  if  it  be  wrong,  a  good 
Man  becomes  wicked.     By  this  we  are  unfortunate, 
fortunate  j  we  difapprove,  or  approve  each  other. 
In  a  word,  it  is  this,    which,    negleded,    forms 
Unhappinefs ;  and,  well  cultivated,  Happinefs. 

§.  3.  But  to  take  away  the  Faculty  of  Elocution  ; 
and  to.  fay,  that  it  is  in  reality  nothing,  is  not  only 

ingrateful 

(h)  Thefe  Words  are  Part  of  a  Letter  written  by  Epicurus. 
when  he  was  dying,  to  one  of  his  Friends.  See  Diog.  Laert. 
L,  X.  §.  22. 

(i)  Probably  for  7r§o«tp£T»xnc  (liould  be  read  oparix*)? ;  which 
Word  is  ufed  by  tpidetui,  but  a  iitde  more  than  a  Page  be- 
fore. 


i86  The  Discourses  of         Book  IL 

in  grateful  to  thofe  who  gave  it,  but  cov/ardly  too. 
Far  fuch  ^  Perfon  feems  to  me  to  be  afraid,  that, 
jf  there  be  any  fuch  Faculty,  we  may  not,  on  oc- 
cafion,  be  able  to  treat  it  with  Contempt.     Such 
are  they  too^  who   deny  any  Difference  between 
Beauty,  and  Deformity.     Was  it  pofTible  then,  to 
be  affeded  in  the  fame  Manner  by  feeing  Therfites^ 
as  Achilles  \  or   Uelen^  as  any  (k)  other  Woman  ? 
Thefe  alfo  are  the  foolifh  and  clownifh  Notions  of 
tbo(e,   w^ho  are  ignorant  of  the  Nature  of  Things  ; 
and  afraid,  that,  whoever   perceives  a  Difference, 
muft  prefently  be  carried  away,  and  overcome.  But 
the  great  Point  is  to  leave  to  each  Thing  its  ov/n 
proper  Faculty  ;  and  then  to  fee  what  the  Value  of 
that  Faculty  is,  and  to  learn  what   is  the  principal 
Thing,  and,  upon  every  Occafion,  to  follow  that, 
and  to  make  it  the  chief  Objed  of  our  Attention : 
to  confider  other  Things  as  trifling  in  Comparifon 
of  this ;  and  yet,  as  far  as  we  are  able,  not  to  ne- 
gled  even  thefe.     We  ought,  for  Inflance,  to  take 
care  of  our  Eyes;    but   not  as  of  the   principal 
Thing,  but  only  on  account  of  the  Principal :   be- 
caul'e  that  will  no  otherwife  preferve  its  own  Nature, 
than  by  making  a  due  Eftimation  of  the  reft,  and 
preferring  fome  to  others.     What  is  the  ufual  Prac- 
tice then  ?  That  of  a  Traveller,  who  returning  into 
bis  own  Country,  and  meeting  on  the  Road  with  a 
good  Inn^  being  pleafed  with   the  Inn^  fhould  re- 
main at  the  Inn.     Have  you  forgot  your  Intention, 
Man  ?    You  were  not  travelling  to  this  Place,  but 
only  through  it.     *'  But  this  is  a  fine  Place."     And 
how  many  other  fine  Inns   are  there,  and  how 
many  pleafant  Fields }    But  only  to  be  paft  through 
in  your  Way.     The  Bufinefs  is,  to  return  to  your 
Country  •,  to  relieve  the  Anxieties  of  your  Family  \ 
to  perform  the  Duties  of  a  Citizen ;  to  marry  •,  have 
Children ;  and  go  through  the  public  Offices.     For 

you 

{J{\  Mr.  VptQn\  Reading  h  eryx'- 


Chap.  2.3         E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  187 

you  dkl  not  fet  out,  to  chufe  th^  fined  Places  ;  but 
to  return,  to  live  in  that  where  you  were  born,  and 
of  which  you  are  appointed  a  Citizen. 

§.  4.  Such  is  the  prefent  Cafe.  Becaufe  by  Speech, 
and  verbal  Precepts,  we  are  to  arrive  at  Perfedlion  i 
and  purify  our  own  Choice  ;  and  redify  that  Facul- 
ty, of  which  the  Office  is,  the  Ufe  of  the  Appear- 
ances of  Things :  and,  becaufe,  for  the  Delivery  of 
Theorems,  a  certain  Manner  of  ExprelTion,  and 
fome  Variety  and  Subtilty  of  Difcourfe,  becomes 
neceflary ;  many,  captivated  by  thefe  very  Things, 
one,  by  Expreflion,  another,  by  Syllogifms,  a  third, 
by  convertible  Proportions,  jufl  as  our  Traveller 
was  by  the  good  Inn,  go  no  further  :  but  fit  down 
and  wafte  their  Lives  fhamefuUy  there,  as  if  a- 
mongft  the  Sirens.  Your  Bufmefs,  Man,  was  to 
prepare  yourfelf  for  fuch  an  Ufe  of  the  Appearances 
of  Things,  as  Nature  demands:  Not  to  befruftrat- 
ed  of  your  Defires,  or  incur  your  Averfions :  never 
to  be  difappointed,  or  unfortunate  :  but  free,  un- 
reftrained,  uncompelled ;  conformed  to  the  Admi- 
niftration  of  Jupiter  ;  obedient  to  that  ;  finding 
fault  with  nothing :  but  able  to  fay,  from  your 
whole  Soul,  the  Verfes  which  begin. 

Conduct  mc^  Jove-,  andthou^  0  Deftiny. 

While  you  have  fuch  a  Bufmefs  before  you,  will 
you  be  fo  pleafed  with  a  pretty  Form  of  Exprellion, 
or  a  few  Theorems,  as  to  chufe  to  flay  and  live 
with  them,  forgetful  of  your  Home  j  and  fay, 
"  They  are  fine  Things  !"  Why,  who  fays  they 
are  not  fine  Things  ;  But  only  as  a  Pallage  ;  as 
an  Inn.  For,  could  you  fpeak  like  Demojthenes^ 
what  hinders,  but  that  you  might  be  a  difappointed 
Wretch  .'*  Could  you  refolve  Syllogifms  like  Chri- 
fippus^  what  hinders,  but  that  you  might  be  mife- 
rable,  forrowful,  envious,  in  Ihort,  diflurbed,  un- 
happy }  Nothing  You  fee  then,  that  thefe  are 
mere  Inns,  of  fmall  Value  j  and  that  your  Point 

in 


1  &8  The  Discourses  of        Book II. 

m  View,  is  quite  another  Thing.  When  I  talk 
thus  to  fome,  they  fuppofe,  that  I  am  overthrow- 
ing all  Care  about  Speaking,  and  about  Theorems  : 
but  I  do  not  overthrow  that ;  only  the  reding  in 
thefe  Things  without  End,  and  placing  our  Hopes 
there.  If  any  one,  by  maintaining  this,  hurts  an 
Audience,  place  me  amongft  thofe  hurtful  People : 
for  I  cannot,  when  I  fee  one  Thing  to  be  the  prin- 
cipal and  moil  excellent,  call  another  fo,  to  gain 
your  Favour. 

CHAPTER    XXIV. 

Concerning  a  Per/on  whom  be  treated  with  Bifregan 

§.  I.  TT7HEN  a  certain  Perfon  faid  to  him^ 
W  *'  I  have  often  come  to  you,  with  a.^ 
**  Defire  of  hearing  you ;  and  you  have  never  given 
*'  me  any  Anfwer  ;  but  now,  if  pofiible,  I  intreat 
*'-  you  to  fay  fbmethingto  me  :'*  Do  you  think, 
replied  Epi5ietus^  that,  as  in  other  Things,  io  in 
Speaking,  there  is  an  Art,  by  v/hich  he,  who  un- 
derflands  it,  fpeaks  Ikilfully,  and  he,  who  doth  not^ 
nnfl^ilfully  ? 

I  do  think  fb. 

He  then,  who,  by  fpeaking,  both  benefits  him- 
ielf,  and  is  able  to  benefit  others,  muft  fpeak  fkil- 
fuUy  •,  but  he  who  rather  hurts,  and  is  hurt,  muft 
be  unfkilful  in  this  Art  of  fpeaking.  For  you  may 
find  fome  Speakers  hurt,  and  others  benefited. 
And  are  all  Hearers  benefited  by  what  they  hear  ^ 
Or  will  you  find  fome  benefited,  and  fome 
hurt  {a)  > 

Both. 

Then  thofe  who  hear  ikilfully  are  benefited,  and 
thofe  who  hear  unfkilfully,  hurt. 

Granted. 

{a)  z  Cor,  li.  16, 


Chap.  24.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  ,gp 

Is  there  an  Art  of  Hearing,  then,  as  well  as  of 
Speaking  ? 

Jt  feems  fo. 

If  you  pleafe,  confider  it  thus  too.     To  whom 
do  you  think,  the  Pradice  of  Mufic  belongs  ?         ' 

To  a  Mufician. 

To  whom  the  proper  Formation  of  a  Staaie  ? 
To  a  Statuary. 

And  do  not  you  imagine  fome  Art  neceflary,  to 
view  a  Statue  fkilfullv  ? 
I  do. 

If,  therefore,  to  /peak  properly  belongs  to  one 
v^ho  IS  (kilful,  do  not  you  fee,  that  to  >^^^r  with 
i^enefit  belongs  likewife  to  one  who  is  Ikilful  ?  For 
the  prefent,  however,  if  you  pleafe,  let  us  fay  no 
more  of  doing  Things  perfedly,  and  with  Benefit, 
lince  we  are  both  far  enough,  from  any  thing  of 
that  Kind :  but  this  feems  to  be  univerfally  con- 
telfed,  that  he,  who  would  hear  Philofophers,  needs 
fome  Kind  of  Exercife  in  Hearing.  Is  it  not  fo  ? 
1  ell  me  then,  on  what  I  fhall  fpeak  to  you?  On 
what  Subjea  are  you  able  to  hear  me  {i?)  ? 

On  Good  and  Evil, 
rhe  Good  and  Evil  of  what }    Of  a  Horfe  ? 

No. 

Of  an  Ox. 

No. 

What  then,  of  a  Man  ? 

Yes. 

^  Do  we  know,    then,  what  Man  is .?     What  is 
HS  Nature;  what  our  Idea  of  him  is ;  and  how 
ar  our  Ears  are  open  in  refped  to  this  Matter  (r) 
vlay,  do  you   underftand  what  Nature  is;    or  are 
'ou  able,  and  in  what  Degree,  to  comprehend  me, 

when 

(h)  See  yo^n  viii.  43. 

{c)  Kxrcc  ^rocrov,  tjrs^,  Toy,  fhould  be  xar»  'iroao,  we^*  Toyroy. 
here  is  no  Need  of  altering  ra  ojtc  t.t^^..«.  Opening  the 
«r,isa  Phr.fe  of  Scripture.  7.^  xxxiii.  16.  xxxvi:  ;o  ir 
In.  20  /I4«rivn.  34,35.  And  even  digging  open  the  £^1' 
A  xl.  6.  m  the  Uehrs'w,  do    &     r 


190  7/^^  D  1  s  c  o  u  R  s  E  s  ^/        Book  11. 

when  I  come  to  fay  ;  "  But  1  muft  ufe  Deinonftra- 
*'  tion  to  you  ?"     How  (hould  you  ?  Do  you  com- 
prehend what  Demonftration  is  -,  or,  how  a  Thing 
is  demonflrated  ;  or  by  what  Methods  ;  or,  what 
refembles  a  Demonftration,  and  yet  is  not  a  De- 
monftration ?    Do  you  know  what  True,  or  talfe 
is  ?     What  is   confequent  to  a   Thing,  and  what 
contradia-ory  ?    Or  unfuitable,  or  diffonant  ?  But  I 
muft  excite  you  to  Philofophy.     How  iliall  I  fhow 
YOU  that  Contradiaion,  among  the  Generality  ot 
Mankind,  by  which  they  differ,  concerning  Good 
and  Evil,  Profitable  and  Unprofitable,  when  you 
know  not  what  Contradmion    means?     Show  me^ 
then,  what  I  dial!  gaifi,  by  difcourfing  with  you? 
Excite  an  Inclination  in  me,  as  a  proper  I  alture  ex- 
cites  an  Inclination  locating,  m  a  Sheep :  tor  it 
you  ofter  him  a  Stone,  or  a  Piece  of  Bread,  he  will 
not  be  excited.     Thus  we  too  have  certain  natural 
Inclinations  to  fpeaking,  when  the  Hearer  appears 
to  be  fomebody  •,  when  he  gives  us  Encouragement : 
but  if  he  fits  by,  like  a  Stone,  or  a  Tuft  ot  Grafs,  < 
how  can  he  excite  any  Defire  in  a  Man  ?    Doth  i 
Vine  fay  to  an  Huft^andman,  "  Take  care  of  me  ? 
No  :  but  invites  him  to  take  care  of  it,  by  (howing 
him,  that,  if  he  doth,  it  will  reward  him  for  his 
Care.     Who  is  there,   whom  engaging  fpnghtly 
Children  do  not  invite  to  play,  and  creep,  and  prat- 
tle, with  them  ?     But  who  was  ever  taken  with  an 
Inclination  to  divert  himfelf,  or  bray,  with  an  Ais  ^ 
for,  be  the  Creature  ever  (o  Uttle,  it  is  ftill  a  httle 

Afs.  ,       . 

^   2   Why  do  you  fay  nothing  to  me,  then  . 

I 'have  only  this  to  fay  to  you  :  That,  whoever 
is  ignorant  what  he  is,  and  wherefore  he  was  born, 
and  in  what  kind  of  a  World,  and  in  what  Society ; 
what  Things  are  good,  and  what  evil;  wliat  tair, 
and  what  bafe  :  who  underftands  neither  Difcourle, 
nor  Demonftration  ;  nor  what  is  true,  nor  what  is 
falfci  nor  is  able  to  diftinguifti  between  them:  luGn 


a  one 


Chap.  24.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  191 

a  one  will  neither  exert  his  Defires,  nor  Averfions, 
nor  Purfuits,  conformably  to  Nature  :  he  will  nei- 
ther intend,  nor  afl'ent,  nor  deny,  nor  fufpend,  his 
Judgment,  conformably  to  Nature  :  but  will  wan- 
der up  and  down,  intirely  deaf  and  blind,  fuppofing 
himfelf  to  be  fbmebody  ("^J ;  while  he  is  in  reality, 
nobody.  Is  there  any  thing  new,  in  all  this?  Is  not 
this  Ignorance  the  Caufe  of  all  the  Errors  that  have 
happened,  from  the  very  Original  of  Mankind  ? 
Why  did  Agamemnon  and  Achilles  differ  .'*  Was  it 
not  for  want  of  knowing  what  is  advantageous, 
what  difadvantageous  ?  Doth  not  one  of  them  fay. 
It  is  advantageous  to  reftore  Chryfeis  to  her  Father  -, 
the  other,  That  it  is  not  ?  Doth  not  one  fay.  That 
he  ought  to  take  away  the  Prize  of  the  other  \  the 
other,  that  he  ought  not?  Did  they  not,  by^ 
thefe  means,  forget  who  they  were,  and  for  what 
Purpofe  they  had  come  there  ?  Why,  what  did 
you  come  for,  Man  :  to  gain  a  Miftrefs,  or  to  fight  ? 

«- "  To  fight." With  whom  ?     With  the 

Trojans^  or  Greeks  f- "  With  the  Trojans'' 

Leaving  He5for^  then,  do  you  draw  your  Sword 
upon  your  own  King  ?  And  do  you,  good  Sir,  for- 
getting the  Duties  of  a  King, 

Intrufted  with  a  Nation^  and  its  Cares^ 

gotofquabbling,  about  a  Girl,  with  the  bravefl  of 
your  Allies ;  whom  you  ought,  by  every  Method, 
to  conciliate  and  preferve  ?  And  will  you  be  infe- 
rior to  a  fubtle  Priefl,  who  pays  his  Court,  with 
the  utmofl  Care,  to  you  fine  Gladiators? — — You 
fee  the  Effeds,  Avhich  Ignorance  of  what  is  advan- 
tageous, produces. *'  But  I  am  rich  [you  may 

"  fay],    as  well  as  other   People.*' What 

richer  than  Agamemnon  ? '^  But  I  am  handfome 

"  too." 

{d)  Aoxu¥  fiiv  T»s  £«»«»,  at  ^'owJfeK,  is  very  near  to  &x«  etvou  tj, 
/*>3^Ev  uvf  Gal.  vi.  3.  There  is  a  fimilar  ExpreiTion  QiPktOy  at  th.z 
End  of  the  Apology  of  Socrates. 


192  The  Discourses!?/        Book  IL 

"  too." VvMiat,  handfomer  than  yf^^///^5.^ 

"  But  I  have  fine  Hair  too." Had  not  Achilles 

finer  and    brighter  ?     Yet  he  neither  combed   it 

nicely,  nor  curled  it. "  But  I  am  flrong  too." 

Can  you  lift  fuch  a  Stone  then,  as  He^or^  or 

Ajapi?  '^  But  I  am  of  a  noble  Family  too." 
Is  your  Mother  a  Goddefs,  or  your  Father  de- 
fended from  Jupiter  ?  And  what  Good  did  all 
this  do  Achilles^  when  he  fat  crying  for  a  Girl  ? — 

"  But  I  am  an   Orator." And  was  not  he? 

Do  not  you  fee  how  he  treated  the  moft  eloquent 
of  the  Greeks^  Phanix  and  Ulyffes  ?  How  he 
ftruck  them  dumb  ?  This  is  all  I  have  to  fay  to 
you  ;  and  even  this,  againil  my  Inclination. 

Whyfo.? 

Becaufe  you  have  given  me  no  Encouragement^  1 
For  what  can  I  fee  in  you,  to  encourage  me,  as 
fpirited  Horfes  do  their  Riders  ?  Your  Perfon  ? 
That  you  disfigure.  Your  Drefs  ^  That  is  effe- 
minate. Your  Behaviour  .?  Your  Look  }  Abfo- 
lutely  nothing.  When  you  would  hear  a  Philofo- 
pher,  do  not  fay  to  him,  ''  You  tell  me  nothing ;" 
but  only  (how  yourfelf  worthy,  or  fit,  to  bear  ;  and 
you  will  find,  how  you  will  move  him  to /peak, 

CHAPTER    XXV. 

That  Logic  is  necr'jpiry. 

WHEN  one  of  the  Company   faid  to  him, 
"  Convince  me  that  Logic   is  necelfary  ;" 
Would  you  have  me  demonftrate  it  to  you,  fays  he  ^ 

"  Yes." Then  I  mufl  ufe  a  demonfhrative 

Form  of  Argument.— "  Granted." And 

how  will  you  know  then,  whether  I  argue  fophifli- 
cally  ?  On  this,  the  Man  being  filent  -,  You  fee, 
fays  he,  that,  even  by  your  own  Confellion,  Logic 

is 


Chap.  ^6.      E  P  I  C  T  E  T  US.  193 

is  neceflary  ;  fince,  without  its  AfTiftance,  you 
cannot  learn  fo  much  as  whether  it  be  neceflary, 
or  not. 

CHAPTER    XXVI. 

What  is  the  Property  of  Error  in  Life, 

§.  I.  T?  VERY  Error  in  Life  implies  a  Contra- 
JD  didtion  :  for,  fmcehe  who  errs,  doth  not 
mean  to  err,  but  to  be  in  the  Right,  it  is  evident, 
that  he  adts  contrary  to  his  Meaning.  What  dotl) 
a  Thief  mean  ?  His  own  Intereft.  If,  then. 
Thieving  be  againfl  his  Interefl,  he  adls  contrary 
to  his  own  Meaning.  Now  every  rational  Soul  is 
naturally  averfe  to  Self-coiitradidion :  but  fo  long 
as  any  one  is  ignorant,  that  it  is  a  Contradiction,  no- 
thing reflrains  him  from  acting  contradictorily  :  but, 
whenever  he  difcovers  it,  he  mufl  as  neceffarily  re- 
nounce and  avoid  it,  as  any  one  mull  diffent  from 
a  Falfhood,  whenever  he  perceives  it  to  be  a  Fal- 
fhood  :  but,  while  this  doth  not  appear,  he  aiTents 
to  it,  as  to  a  Truth. 

§.2.  He  then  is  an  able  Speaker,  and  excels  at 
once  in  Exhortation  and  Convidtion,  who  can  difco- 
ver,  to  each  Man,  the  Contradidion  by  which  he 
errs,  and  j)rove  clearly  to  him,  that  what  he  would, 
he  doth  not ;  and  what  he  would  not  do,  that  he 
doth  (a).  For,  if  that  be  fhown,  he  will  depart 
from  it,  of  his  own  accord :  bur,  till  you  have 
fhown  it,  be  not  furprifed  that  he  remains  w^here 
he  is :  for  he  doth  it  on  the  Appearance,  that  he 
ads  rightly  (b).  Hence  Socrates^  relying  on  this 
Faculty,  ufed  to  fay,  ''  It  is  not  my  Cuftom  to  cite 
*'  any  other  Witnefs  of  my  Aflertions ;  but  I  am 
"  always  contented  with  my  Opponent.     I  call  and 

{a)  For  that  nxhich  1  do^  1  alloiv  not :  for  ^vjhat  I  <v:ouU,  that 
do  I  not',  hut  luhatl  hate  y  that  Ida.     Rom.  vii.  15. 
{b)  See  B.  I.e.  i3.  Note  «. 

•    O  *'  fummon 


194  ^be  Discourses,   (Sc.     Book  11. 

*'  fummon  him  for  my  Witnefs ;  and  his  fingle 
*'  Evidence  is  inftead  of  all  others  {c)y  For  he 
knew,  that,  if  a  rational  Soul  be  moved  by  any 
thing,  the  Scale  mud  turn,  whether  it  will  or 
no  (d).  Show  the  governing  Faculty  of  Reafon  a 
Contradidion,  and  it  will  renounce  it :  but,  till 
you  have  fhown  it,  rather  blame  yourfelf,  than  him 
who  is  unconvinced. 

(0  Seec.  12.  $.  2. 

(d}  Something  here  is  loft  in  the  Original.  The  Tranflatioa 
hath  conneded  the  Senfe  in  the  beft  and  Ihorteft  Manner  \% 
could. 


End  of  the  Second  Book. 


THE 

DISCOURSES 

OF 

E  p  I  cr EtUS. 

BOOK     HI. 


CHAPTER    I. 

Of  Finery  in  Drefs. 

Certain  young  Rhetorician  com- 
ing to  him,  with  his  Hair  too 
curioufly  ornamented,  and  his 
Drefs  very  fine  ;  Tell  me,  fays 
EpiSJetus^  whether  you  do  not 
think  fome  Horfes  and  Dogs 
beautiful;  and  fo  of  all  other 
Animals? 
I  do. 

Are  fome  Men  then  likewife  beautiful,  and  o- 
thers  deformed  ? 

O  2i  Certainly. 


ip6  Tbe  Disco u  RSEs  of       Book  III. 

Certainly. 

Do  we  call  each  of  thefe  beautiful  then  in .  its 
Kind,  on  the  fame  Account,  or  on  fome  Account, 
peculiar  to  itfelf  ?  You  will  judge  of  it,  by  this  : 
fince  we  fee  a  Dog  naturally  formed  for  one  thing, 
a  Horfe  for  another,  and  a  Nightingale,  for  In- 
ftance,  for  another  *,  in  general,  it  will  not  be  ab- 
furd  to  pronounce  each  of  them  beautiful,  fo  far 
as  it  is  in  the  Condition  mod  fuitable  to  its  own  Na- 
ture :  but,  fince  the  Nature  of  each  is  different,  I 
think  each  of  them  mull  be  beautiful,  in  a  different 
Way.  Is  it  not  fo  ^ 
Agreed. 

Then,  what  makes  a  Dog  beautiful,  makes  a 
Horfe  deformed  ;  and  what  makes  a  horfe  beau- 
tiful, a  Dog  deformed  ;  if  their  Natures  are  dif- 
ferent. 

So  it  feems  probable. 

For,  I  fuppofe,  what  makes  a  good  Pancra- 
tiaft  (a)  makes  no  good  Wreftler,  and  a  very  ridi- 
culous Racer  •,  and  the  very  fame  Perfon  who  ap- 
pears beautiful  as  a  Pentathlete  (a)y  would  appear 
very  deformed,  in  Wreflling. 
Very  true. 

What  then,    makes  a    Man  beautiful  ?     Is  it 
the  fame,  in   general,    that  makes  a  Dog  or  a 
Horfe  fo  ? 
The  fame. 

What  is  it  then,  that  makes  a  Dog  beautiful .? 
That  Excellency  which  belongs  to  a  Dog. 
What,  a  Horfe  .? 
The  Excellency  of  a  Horfe. 

What, 

fa)  Thefe  are  the  Names  of  Combatants  in  the  Olfmpic 
Games.  A  Pancratiaft  was  one  who  united  the  Exercifes  of 
Wrefth'ng  and  Boxing.  A  Pentathlete,  one  who  contended  in 
all  the  Five  Games  of  Leaping,  Running,  Throwing  the  Dif- 
cus,  Darting,  and  Wreftling.  SeePoTTER'j  Grecian  Antiqui' 
ties.  Vol,  I,  ch.  21. 


Chap.  I.         E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  197 

What,  a  Man  ?  Muft  it  not  be  the  Excellency 
belonging  to  a  Man?  If  then  you  vVoiild  appear 
beautiful,  young  Man,  drive  for  human  Excel- 
lency. 

What  is  that  ? 

Confider,  when  you  praife,  without  partial  Af- 
fedion,  whom  you  praife  :  Is  it  the  Honed,  or  the 
Didioneft? 

The  Honed. 

The  Sober,  or  theDiflblute  ? 

The  Sober. 

The  Temperate,  or  the  Intemperate  ? 

The  Temperate. 

Then,  if  you  makeyourfelf  fuch  a  Chara6\er,  you 
know  that  you  will  make  yourfelf  beautiful :  but, 
while  you  negledl  thefe  Things,  though  you  ufe 
every  Contrivance  to  appear  beautiful,  you  muft 
necefiarily  be  deformed. 

§.  2.  I  know  not  how  to  fay  any  thing  further  to 
you :  for  if  I  fpeak  what  1  think,  you  will  be 
vexed,  and  perhaps  go  away,  and  return  no  more. 
And,  if  I  do  not  fpeak,  confider  how  I  (hall  a6l : 
if  you  come  to  me  to  be  improved,  and  I  do  not 
improve  you  ;  and  you  come  to  me  as  to  a  Philo- 
fopher,  and  I  do  not  fpeak  like  a  Philofopher. 
(b)  Befides  :  how  could  it  be  confident  with  my 
Duty  towards  yourfelf,  to  overlook,  and  leave 
you  uncorrected  .^  If  hereafter  you  fhould  come 
to  have  Senfe,  you  will  accufe  me,  with  Reafon  : 
"  What  did  Epi5ietu5  obferve  in  me,  that,  when 
''  he  faw  me  come  to  him,  in  fuch  a  diameful  Con- 
**  dition,  he  overlooked  it,  and  never  faid  fo  much 
*'  as  a  Word  of  it  ?  Did  he  fo  abfolutely  defpair 
"  of  me  ?  Was  not  I  young  ?  Was  not  I  able  to 
O  3  "  hear 

(b)  EpiSietus  had  been  before  confidering  the  Propriety  of 
Ms  own  Character  as  a  Philolbpher :  but,  according  to  Mr. 
Uptonh  very  probable  ConjciSlure,  the  Tranflation  muft  be— — 
would  it  not  be  cruel,  ^r, 


ip8  T'Z?^  Di  scou  R  SES  of        Book  III. 

*'  hear  Reafon  ?  How  many  young  Men,  at  that 
*'  Age,  are  guilty  of  many  fuch  Errors  ?  I  am  told 
*'  of  one  PolemOy  who,  from  a  moft  difiblute  Youth, 
"  became  totally  changed  (f).  Suppofe  he  did  not 
*'  think  I  (hould  become  a  Polenio  •,  he  might  how- 
*'  ever  have  fet  my  Locks  to  rights :  he  might 
*■  haveftript  off  my  Bracelets  and  Kings  :  he  might 
*'  have  prevented  my  picking  off  the  Hairs  from 
*'  my  Perfon.     But  when  he  (aw  me  drefTed  like  a 

" what  (hall  I  fay  ?— — he  was  filent."     I  do 

not  fay  like  what ;  when  you  come  to  your  Senfes, 
you  v/ill  fay  it  yourfelf,  and  will  know  what  it  is, 
and  who  they  are  who  fludy  fuch  a  Drefs. 

§.3.    If  you  fhould   hereafter  lay   this   to   my 

Charge,  what  Excufe  could  I  make ; Ay  : 

but  if  I  do  fpeak,  he  will  not  regard  me.  Why,  did 
Laius  regard  Af'ollo  ?  Did  not  he  go  and  get  drunk, 
and  bid  Farewel  to  the  Oracle  ?  What  then  ?  Did 
this  hinder  Jpnllo^  from  telling  him  the  Truth? 
Now,  I  am  uncertain,  whether  you  will  regard 
me^  ^  or  not ;  but  Apollo  pofitively  knew,  that  Laius 
would  not  regard  hin?^  and  yet  he  fpoke  (d).  "  And 
*'  why  did  h<"  fpeak  ?"  You  may  as  well  afk,  Why 
is  he  Apollo ;  why  doth  he  deliver  Oracles ;  why 
hath  he  placed  himfelf  in  fuch  a  Pofh  as  ^  Prophet, 
and  the  Fountain  of  Trqth,  to  whom  the  Inhabi- 
tants 

(c)  ?o/?w£7  was  a  profligate  young  Rake  o^  Athens^  and  even 
dirtingniOied  by  the  Diirdutenefs  ot  his  Manners.  One  Day, 
after  a  riotous  Entertainment,  he  came  reeling,  with  a  Chaplet 
on  his  Head,  into  the  School  of  Xenocrates.  The  Audience 
were  greatly  offended  at  his  fcandalous  Appearance  :  but  the 
Philofopher  went  on,  without  any  Emotion,  in  a  Difcourfe 
upon  Temperance  and  Sobriety.  Po/emo  was  lb  ftruck  by  his 
Arguments,  that  he  Toon  threw  away  his  Chaplet;  and,  from 
that  Time,  became  a  Difciple  ot  Xenocrafes  ;  and  profited  (o 
we!l  by  his  Inilru6lions,  that  he  afterv/ards  fucceeded  him  in 
the  ^ocratic  School. 

(d)  Laius,  King  of  Thebes,  petitioned  Apollo  for  a  Son. 
The  Oracle  anfwered  him.  That,  if  Laius  became  a  Father,  he 
fliould  perifh  by  the  H:ind  of  his  Son.  The  Predidion  was  fu}- 
filed  by  Oedipus.     Upton. 


Chap.r.  E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  199 

tantsof  the  World  fliould  refort  ?  Why  Is  Know 
Thyself  infcribed  on  the  Front  of  his  Temple, 
when  no  one  minds  it  ? 

§.  4.  Did  Socrates  prevail  on  all  who  came  to 
him,  to  take  care  of  themfelves  ?  Not  on  the 
thoufandth  Part :  but  however,  being,  as  he  him- 
felf  declares,  divinely  appointed  to  fuch  a  Poft,  he 
never  deferted  it.  What  doth  he  fay,  even  to  his 
Judges  ?  "  If  you  would  acquit  me,  on  Condition, 
*'  that  I  fhould  no  longer  ad  as  I  do  now,  I  will 
*'  not  accept  it,  nor  delift  :  but  I  will  accofl  all  I 
*'  meet,  whether  young  or  old,  and  interrogate 
"  them  juft  in  the  fame  Manner  :  but  particularly 
*'  you,  my  Fellow-citizens ;  as  you  are  more  nearly 

*'  related  to  me.''- — ■ ".Are  you  fo  curious  and 

*'  officious,  Socrates  ?  What  is  it  to  you,  how  we 
*'  acl?— What  do  you  fay  ?  While  you  are  of 
*'  the  fame  Community,  and  the  fame  Kindred, 
"  with  me,  fhall  you  be  carelefs  of  yourfelf,  and 
"  fhow  yourfelf  a  bad  Citizen  to  the  City,  a  bad 
"  Kinfman  to  your  Kindred,  and  a  bad  Neighbour 

*'  to  your  Neighbourhood  ?" "  Why,    who  are 

"  you  .?" Here  it  is  a  great  Thing  to  fay,  "  1 

*'  am  He  who  ought  to  take  care  of  Mankind  \' 
for  it  is  not  -every  little  paultry  Heifer  that  dares 
refill  the  Lion  :  but  if  the  Bull  fhould  come  up,  and 
refill  him,  fay  to  h  m^  if  you  think  proper.  Who 
are  you  ?  IV hat  Bufinejs  is  U  cf  yours  ?  In  every 
Species,  Man,  there  is  fome  one  Part  which  by  Na- 
ture excells  i  in  Oxen,  in  Dogs,  in  Bees,  in  Horfes. 
Do  not  fay  to  what  excells,  ti'ho  are  )0u  ?  If  you 
do,  it  will,  fom.e-how  or  other,  find  a  Voice  to  teil 
you  ;  ''  I  am  like  the  purple  Thread  in  a  Gar- 
*'  ment  (e).  Do  not  exped  me  to  be  like  the  reft  ; 
*'  or  find  fault  with  my  Nature,  which  hath  dillin- 
*'  guifhed  me  from  others.*' 

§.  5.  What  then,  am  /fuch  a  one  ?     How  fhould 
1  ?   Indeed,  are  you  fuch  a  one  as  to  be  able  to 
O  4  hear 

(e)  See  P.  8,  i  3. 


200  The  Discourses  ^Z"         Book  III. 

hear  the  Truth  ?  I  wifh  you  were.  But  however, 
fmce  I  am  condemned  to  wear  a  grey  Beard  and  a 
Cloke,  and  you  come  to  me  as  to  a  Philofopher,  I 
will  not  treat  you  cruelly,  nor  as  if  I  defpaired  of 
you;  but  will  all^  you — —Who  is  it,  young 
Man,  whom  you  would  render  beautiful  ?  Know, 
firft,  who  you  are  ;  and  then  adorn  yourfelf  accord- 
ingly. You  are  a  Man  ;  that  is,  a  mortal  Animal, 
capable  of  a  rational  Ufe  of  the  Appearances  of 
Things.  And  what  is  this  rational  Ufe  ?  A  per- 
fed  Conformity  to  Nature.  What  have  you  then, 
particularly  excellent }  Is  it  the  animal  Part  ^  No. 
The  mortal  ?  No.  That  which  is  capable  of  the  (f) 
Ufe  of  the  Appearances  of  Things .?  No.  The 
Excellence  lies  in  the  rational  Part.  Adorn  and 
beautify  this ;  but  leave  your  Hair  to  him  who 
formed  it,  as  he  thought  good.  Well  •,  what  other 
Denominations  have  you  ?  Are  you  a  Man,  or  a 
Woman  }  A  Man.  Then  adorn  yourfelf  as  a  Man, 
not  a  Woman,  A  Woman  is  naturally  fmooth  and 
delicate ;  and,  if  hairy,  is  a  Monller,  and  fhown 
among  the  Monfters  ^t  Rome.  It  is  the  fame  in  a 
Man,  not  to  be  hairy ;  and,  if  he  is  by  Nature  not 
fo,  he  is  a  Monfler.  But,  if  he  clips  and  picks  off 
his  Hairs,  what  fhall  we  do  with  him  ?  Where 
fhall  we  l"how  him ;  and  how  ihall  we  advertife 
him  .^  J  Man  to  be  feen,  who  would  rather  be  a 
Woman.  What  a  fcandalous  Show  !  \yho  would 
not  wonder  at  fuch  an  Advertilement  ?  I  believe 
indeed,  that  thefe  very  Pickers  themfelves  would  ; 
not  apprehending,  that  it  is  the  very  Thing  of 
which  ihey  are  guilty. 

§.  6.  Of  what  have  you  to  accufe  your  Nature, 
Sir.J^  That  it  hath  made  you  a  Man?  Why; 
were  all  to  be  born  Women  then  .?  In  that  Cafe, 
what  would  have  been  the  Ufe  of  your  Finery  ? 
For  whom  would  you  have  made  yourfelf  fine,  if 

all 

(f)  The  bare  U/e  of  Objedls  belongs  to  all  Animals ;  a  rati- 
wal  Ufe  of  them  is  peculiar  to  Man.    See  IntrodudUon,  §.  7. 


Chap.  I.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  2pi 

all  were  Women  ?  But  the  whole  Affair  difpieafes 
you.  Go  to  work  upon  the  Whole  then.  Remove 
what  is  the  Caufe  of  thefe  Hairs ;  and  make  your- 
felf  a  Woman  entirely,  that  we  may  be  no  longer 
deceived,  nor  you  be  half  Man,  half  Woman.? 
To  whom  would  you  be  agreeable  }  To  the  Wo- 
men ^     Be  agreeable  to  them  as  a  Man. 

Ay;  but  they  are  pleafed  with  fmooth  pretty 
Fellows. 

Go  hang  yourfelf.  Suppofe  they  were  pleafed 
with  Pathics,  would  you  become  one  ?  Is  this  your 
Bufinefs  in  Life  ?  Were  you  born  to  pleafe  difib- 
lute  Women  ?  Shall  we  make  fuch  a  one  as  you, 
in  the  Corinthian  Republic,  for  Inftance,  Governor 
of  the  City,  Mailer  of  the  Youth,  Commander  of 
the  Army,  or  Diredor  of  the  public  Games?  Will 
you  pick  your  Hairs,  when  you  are  married  ?  For 
whom,  and  for  what }  Will  you  be  the  Father  of 
Children,  and  introduce  them  into  the  State,  picked, 
like  yourfelf  .f*  O  what  a  fine  Citizen,  and  Sena- 
tor, and  Orator !  For  Heaven's  fake.  Sir,  ought  we 
to  pray  for  a  Succeflion  of  young  Men,  difpofed  and 
bred  like  you ! 

§.  7.  Now,  when  you  have  once  heard  this  Dii^ 
courfe,  go  home,  and  fay  to  yourfelf ;  It  is  not 
Epi£fetus  who  hath  told  me  all  thefe  Things  (for 
how  fhould  he.^^  but  fome  propitious  God,  by 
him  ig)  ;  for  it  would  never  have  entered  the  Head 
of  Epi£ietus^  who  is  not  ufed  to  difpute  with  any 
one.  Well ;  let  us  obey  God  then,  that  we  may 
not  incur  the  divine  Difpleafure.  If  a  Crow  had 
fignified  any  thing  to  you,  by  his  Croaking  i  it  is 
not  the  Crow  that  fignifies  it,  but  God,  by  him. 
And,  if  you  have  any  thing  fignified  to  you  by  the 
human  Voice,  doth  he  not  caufe  the  Man  to  tell  it 
you  J  that  you  may  know  the  divine  Efficacy,  which 

declares 

{g)  For  it  is  mt  ye  that /peak,  hut  tie  Spirit  of  your  Father 
*which  fpeaketh  in  you.    Matt.  X.  20. 


202  The  Discourses  0/        Book  III. 

declares  its  Significations  to  different  Perfbns  in 
different  Manners ;  and  fignifies  the  greatefl  and 
principal  Things,  by  the  noblefl  MelTengers  (h). 
What  elfe  does  the  Poet  mean,  when  he  fays, 

Hermes  Ifent^  his  Purpofe  to  reftrain. 

HermeSy  defcending  from  Heaven,  was  to  warn 
Him ;  and  the  Gods  now,  hkewife,  fend  a  Hermes 
to  warn  Tou^  not  to  invert  the  well-appointed  Or- 
der of  Things  ;  nor  be  curioufly  trifling :  but  fuf- 
fer  a  Man  to  be  a  Man ;  and  a  Woman,  a  Wo* 
man  :  a  beautiful  Man,  to  be  beautiful,  as  a  Man  ; 
a  deformed  Man,  to  be  deformed,  as  a  Man  :  for 
you  do  not  confift  of  Fiefh  and  Hair,  but  of  tlie  Fa- 
culty of  Choice.  If  you  take  care  to  have  this  beau- 
tiful, you  will  be  beautiful.  But  all  this  while,  I 
dare  not  tell  you,  that  you  are  deformed  ^  for  I 
fancy  you  would  rather  hear  any  thing  than  this. 
But  confider  what  Socrates  fays  to  the  mod  beau- 
tiful and  blooming  of  all  Men,  Alcibiades.  "  Endea- 
"vour  to  make  your felf  beautiful.  What  doth  he 
"  mean  to  fay  to  him  ;  Curl  your  Locks,  and  pick 
"  the  Hairs  from  your  Legs  ?"  Heaven  forbid ! 
But,  Ornament  your  Choice  :  Throw  away  your 
wrong  Principles. 

What  is  to  be  done  with  the  poor  Body  then  } 
Leave  it  to  Nature.     Another  hath  taken  care  of 
fuch  Things.     Give  them  up  to  Him. 
What !  then,  mull  one  be  a  Sloven  P 
By  no  means  :  but  be  neat,  conformably  to  your 
Nature.     A  Man  fhoiild  be  neat,  as  a  Man  ;  a  Wo- 
man, as  a  Woman  ;  a  Child,  as  a  Child.     If  not, 
let  us  pick  out  the  Mane  of  a  Lion,  that  he  may  not 
be  llovenly  ;  and  the  Comb  of  a  Cock  •,    for  he 
ought  to  be  neat  too.     Yes ;  but   let  it   be   as  a 
Cock  ;  and  a  Lion,  as  a  Lion  ;  and  a  Hound,  as  a 
Hound.  CHAP- 

{h)  This  PafTage  hath  a  remarkable  Likenefs  to  Heb.  \.  1,2. 
God,  Hx'ho^  at  fundry  limes  and  in  di'verje  Manners y  /pake  in  Times 
fajt  unto  the  Fathers  hy  the  Prophet Sy  hath,  in  theje  laji  Dajs^ 
Jpoken  unto  us  by  his  Son  -  ■ 


Chap.  2.  EPICTETUS.  203 


CHAPTER    II. 

In  what  a  Proficient  ought  to  he  exercifed ;  and  that 
we  negie^  the  principal  Things. 

§.  I .  'T*  HERE  are  Three  Topics  In  Philofophy, 
A  in  which  he,  who  would  be  wife  and 
good,  mufl  be  exercifed  {a).  That  of  the  Beftrrs^ 
and  Aver/ions  •,  that  he  may  not  be  difap pointed  of 
the  one,  nor  incur  the  other.  That  of  the  Purfuits^ 
and  Avoidances  ;  and,  in  general,  the  Duties  of 
Life  i  that  he  may  ad  with  Order  and  Confidera- 
tion,  and  not  carelefsly.  The  Third  Topic  be- 
longs to  Circumfpedion,  and-a  Freedom  from  De- 
ception ;  and,  in  general,  whatever  belongs  to  the 
AfTent. 

§.2.  Of  thefe  Topics,  the  principal  and  moft 
urgent,  is  that  of  the  PaiTions :  for  Paffion  is  pro- 
duced no  otherwife,  than  by  a  Difappointment  of 
the  Defires,  and  an  incurring  of  the  Averfions.  It 
is  this  which  introduces  Perturbations,  Tumults, 
Misfortunes,  and  Calamities  :  this  is  the  Spring  of 
Sorrow,  Lamentation,  and  Envy  :  this  renders  us 
envious,  and  emulous;  and  incapable  of  hearing 
Reafon. 

§.3.  The  next  Topic  regards  the  Duties  of  Life. 
For  I  am  not  to  be  undiilurbed  by  PafTions,  in  the 
iame  Senfe  as  a  Statue  is ;  but  as  one  who  preferves 
the  natural  and  acquired  Relations;  as  a  pious 
Perfon,  as  a  Son,  as  a  Brother,  as  a  Father,  as  a 
Citizen. 

§.  4.  The  Third  Topic  belongs  to  thofe  who  are 
now  making  a  Proficiency  ;  and  is  a  Security  to  the 
other  Two,  that  no  unexamined  Appearance  may 
furprize  us,  either  in  Sleep,  or  Wine,  or  in  the 
Spleen.     This,  fay  you,  is  above  us.     But  our  pre-^ 

fent 

(a)  See  Introduction,  §.  3>  4.  5,  6. 


204  ^he  Discourses  of       Book  111. 

fent  Philorophers,  leaving  the  Firfl  and  Second 
Topics  [the  AfFedtions,  and  moral  Duties],  employ 
themfelves  wholly  about  the  Third ;  Convertible, 
definitive,  hypothetical  Propofitions  [and  other  lo- 
gical Subtilties].  For,  they  fay,  that  we  mufl,  by 
engaging  even  in  thefe  Subjeds,  take  care  to  guard 
againft  Deception.  Who  mufl  ?  A  wife  and  good 
Man.  Is  this  Security  from  Deception,  then,  the 
Thing  you  want  ?  Have  you  maftered  the  other 
Sabjeds  ?  Are  you  not  liable  to  be  deceived  by 
Money  ?  When  you  fee  a  fine  Girl,  do  you  op- 
pofe  the  Appearance  which  is  raifed  in  your  Mind  ? 
If  your  Neighbour  inherits  an  Eftate,  do  you  feel 
no  Vexation  ?  Do  you,  at  prefent,  want  nothing- 
more  than  Perfeverance  ?  You  learn  even  thefe' 
very  Things,  Wretch,  with  Trembling,  and  a  fo- 
licitous  Dread  of  Contempt ;  and  are  inquifitive  to 
know,  what  is  faid  of  you ;  and,  if  any  one  comes 
and  tells  you,  that,  in  a  difpute  which  was  the  befl- 
of  the  Philofophers,  one  of  the  Company  faid,  that 
fuch  a  one  was  the  only  Philofbpher,  that  little  Soul 
of  yours  grows  to  the  Size  of  two  Cubits,  inflead  of 
an  Inch  :  but  if  another  fhould  come,  and  fay, 
''  You  are  miftaken,  he  is  not  worth  hearing ;  for 
"  what  dcth  he  know  ?  He  hath  the  firfl  Rudi- 
"  ments,  but  nothing  more;'*  you  are  Thunder- 
ilruck  ;  you  prefently  turn  pale,  and  cry  out,  "  I 
"  will  fhow  him  •,  what  a  Man,  and  how  great  a 
"  Philofopher  I  am."  It  is  evident  [what  you  are], 
by  thefe  very  Things ;  why  do  you  aim  to  fhow  it 
by  others  ?  Do  not  you  know,  that  Diogenes  fhow- 
ed  fome  Sophifl  in  this  Manner,  by  extending  his 
middle  Finger  {¥)  *,  arid,  when  he  was  mad  with 
Rage,  This,  fays  Diogenes^  is  He :  I  have  fhowed 
him  to  you.  For  a  Man  is  not  fhowed  in  the  fame 
Senfe  as  a  Stone,  or  a  Piece  of  Wood,  by  the  Fin- 
ger; 

(h)  Extending  the  middle  Finger,  with  the  Antients,  was  a 
Mark  of  the  greateft  Contempt, 


Chap.  2.         E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S,  205 

ger  ;  but  whoever  (hows  his  Principles,  lliows  him 
as  a  Man. 

§.  5.  Let  us  fteyour  Principles  too.  For  is  it 
not  evident,  that  you  confider  your  own  Choice  as 
nothing  ;  but  look  out  for  fomething  external,  and 
independent  on  it  ?  As,  what  fuch  a  one  will  fay 
of  you,  and  what  you  fhall  be  thought  •,  whether 
a  Man  of  Letters ;  whether  to  have  read  Chryftppus^ 
or  Aiitipater  ;  for,  if  Archedemus  too,  you  have 
every  thing  you  wifh.  Why  are  you  fliU  folicitous, 
left  you  fhould  not  fhow  us  what  you  are  ?  Will 
you  let  me  tell  you,  what  you  have  fhowed  us, 
that  you  are  ?  A  mean,  difcontented,  pafTionate, 
cowardly  Fellow ;  complainingof  every  thing-,  ac- 
cufing  every  body ;  perpetually  reftlefs ;  good  for 
nothing.  This  you  have  fhowed  us.  Go  now  and 
read  Archedemtts :  and  then,  if  you  hear  but  the 
Noife  of  a  Moufe,  you  are  a  dead  Man ;  for  you 

will  die  fome  fuch  Kind  of  Death  as Who 

was  it  ?  Crinis  {c) ;  who  valued  himfelf  extremely 
too,  that  he  underftood  Archedemus, 

§.  6.  Wretch,  why  do  not  you  let  alone  Things, 
that  do  not  belong  to  you  ?  Thefe  Things  become 
fuch  as  are  able  to  learn  them,  without  Perturba- 
tion J  who  can  fay,  ''  I  am  not  fubjed  to  Anger,  or 
*'  Grief,  or  Envy.  I  am  not  reftrained  v  I  am  not 
*'  compelled.  What  remains  for  me  to  do  ^  I  am 
*'  at  Leifure  ;  I  am  at  Eafe.  Let  us  fee  how  con- 
"  vertible  Propofitions  are  to  be  treated  :  Let  us 
*'  confider,  when  an  Hypothefis  is  laid  down,  how 
"  we  may  avoid  a  Contradidion."  To  fuch  Per- 
fons  do  thefe  Things  belong.  They  who  are  fafe 
may  light  a  Fire  ;  go  to  Dinner,  if  they  pleale  -, 
and  iing,  and  dance :  but  you  come  and  hoift  a 
Flag,  when  your  Veffel  is  juft  finking. 

(c)  Crinis  was  a  Stoic  Philofopher.    The  CIrcumllances  of 
his  Death  are  noc  now  known. 

CHAP- 


2o6  ^he  Djscourses  of        Book  lit 

CHAPTER    III. 

What  is  the  Suhje^I -matter  of  a  good  Man ;  and  in 
what  we  chiefly  ought  to  be  Practitioners, 

§.  I.  np  H  E  Subjedl-matter  of  a  wife  and  good 
1-  Man  is,  his  own  governing  Faculty. 
The  Body  is  the  Siibjed-matter  of  a  Phyhcian,  and 
of  a  Mafler  of  Exeicife  ;  and  a  Field,  of  the  Huf- 
bandman.  The  Bufinefsof  a  wife  and  good  Man 
is,  an  Ufe  of  the  Appearances  of  Things,  conform- 
able to  Nature.  Now,  every  Soul,  as  it  is  naturally 
formed  for  an  Aflent  to  Truth,  a  Diffent  from  Fal- 
ihood,  and  a  Sufpence  with  regard  to  Uncertainty  ; 
fb  it  is  moved  by  a  Defire  of  Good,  an  Averfion 
from  Evil,  and  an  Indifference  to  what  is  neither 
good  nor  evi}.  For,  as  a  Money-changer,  or  a 
Gardener,  is  not  at  Liberty  to  rejed.  Ciejar\  Coin  ^ 
but  when  once  it  is  Ihown,  is  obliged,  whether  he 
will  or  not,  to  deliver  what  is  fold  for  it ;  fo  is  it  in 
the  Soul.  Apparent  Good  at  firfl  Sight  attracts,  and 
Evil  repells.  Nor  will  the  Soul  any  more  rejed  an 
evident  Appearance  of  Good,  than  [they  will]  Ca- 
far\  Coin. 

§.  2.  Hence  depends  every  Movement,  both  of 
God  and  Man  ;  and  hence  Good  is  preferred  to  e\^e- 
ry  Obligation,  however  near.  My  Connexion  is 
not  with  my  Father ;  but  with  Good.'  Are 

you  fo  hard-hearted.^ Such  is  my  Nature, 

and  fuch  is  the  Coin  which  God  hath  given  me.  If, 
therefore,  Good  is  made  to  be  any  thing  but  Fair 
and  Juft,  away  go  Father,  and  Brother,  and  Coun- 
try, and  every  thing.  What !  Shall  I  overlook  my 
own  Good,  and  give  it  up  to  you  ?  For  what }  "  I 
*'  am  your  Father."  But  not  m^  Good.  "  lam 
"  your  Brother."  But  not  my  Good.  But,  if  we 
place  it  in  a  right  Choice,  Good  will  confifl  in  an 

Obfer- 


Chap.  3.  E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  207 

Obfervance  of  the  feveral  Relations  of  Life ;  and 
then,  he  who  gives  up  fome  Externals,  acquires 
Good.     Your  Father  deprives  you  of  your  Money  ^ 
but  he  doth  not  hurt  you.     Your  Brother  will  pof- 
fefs  as  much  larger  a  Portion  of  Land  than  you,  as 
he    pleafes;    but   will   he  poflefs  more   Honour? 
More  Fidelity  ^    More  fraternal  AfFedion  }     Who 
can  throw  you  out  of  this  Poflefnon  ^    Not  even  Ju- 
piter :  for,  indeed,  it  is  not  his  Will;  but  he  hath 
put  this  Good  into  my  own  Power,  and  given  it 
me,  like  his  own,  uncompelled,  unrefhrained,  and 
unhindered.     But,  when  any  one  hath  a  Coin  dif- 
ferent from  this,  [for  his  Coin,]  whoever  (hows  it 
to  hirn,  may  have  whatever  is  fold  for  it,  in  return. 
A  thievifh  Proconful   comes  into  the  Province: 
What  Coin  doth  he  ufe  .?     Silver.     Show  it  himj 
and  carry  off  what  you  pleafe.  An  Adulterer  comes: 
What  Coin  doth  he  ufe  .?     Women.     Take  the 
Coin,  fays  one,  and  give  me  this  Trifle.     "  Give 
*'  it  me,  and  it  is  yours."     Another  is  addided  to 
Boys:    give   him  the  Coin,  and  take   what   you 
pleafe.     Another  is  fond  of  hunting  :  give  him  a 
fine  Nag,  or  a  Puppy  ;  and,  though  with  Sighs  and 
Groans,  he  will  fell  you  for  it,  what  you  will ;  for 
he  is  inwardly  compelled  by  another,  who  haih 
conllituted  this  Coin. 

§.3.  In  this  manner,  ought  every  one  chiefly  to 
exercife  himfelf  When  you  go  out  in  a  Morn- 
ing, examine  whomfoever  you  fee,  or  hear  :  an- 
fwer,  as  to  a  Quefl:ion.  What  have  you  feen  ^  A 
handfome  Perfon  .?  Apply  the  Rule.  Is  this  depen- 
dent, or  independent,  on  Choice.?  Independent 
Throw  it  away.  What  have  you  feen  ?  One 
grieving  for  the  Deceafe  of  a  Child.?  Apply  die 
Rule.  Death  is  independent  on  Choice.  Throw- 
it  by.  Hath  a  Coniul  met  you  ?  Apply  the  Rule 
What  Kind  of  thing  is  the  Confular  Office  }  depen- 
dent, or  independent,  on  Choice?     Independent. 

Throw 


208  ne  Discourses  ef        Book  III. 

Throw  afide  this  too.  It  is  not  Pr oc£  Caft  it  away. 
It  is  nothing  to  you. 

§.4.  If  we  aded  thus,  and  pradlifed  in  this 
manner,  from  Morning  till  Night,  by  Heaven, 
ibmething  would  be  done.  Whereas  now,  on  the 
contrary,  we  are  caught  by  every  Appearance,  ha'lf- 
afleep  -,  and,  if  we  ever  do  awake,  it  is  only  a  lit- 
tle in  the  School :  but,  as  ibon  as  we  go  out,  if  we 
meet  any  one  grieving,  we  fay,  '^  He  is  undone.'* 
If  a  Conful,  "  How  happy  is  he!"  ^  If  an  Exile, 
*'  How  miferable.*'  If  a  poor  Man,  "  How  wretch- 
**  ed ;  he  hath  nothing  to  eat !" 

§.  5.  Thefe  vicious  Principles  then  are  to  be 
lopped  off:  and  here  is  our  whole  Strength  to  be 
applied.  For  what  is  Weeping  and  Groaning  ? 
Principle.  What  is  Misfortune  P  Principle.  What 
is  Sedition,  Difcord,  Complaint,  Accufation,  Im- 
piety, Trifling  ?  All  thefe  are  Principles,  and  no- 
thing more  ;  and  Principles  concerning  Things  in- 
dependent on  Choice,  as  if  they  were  either  good 
or  evil.  Let  any  one  transfer  thefe  Principles  to 
Things  dependent  on  Choice,  and  I  will  engage, 
that  he  will  prefervehis  Conilancy,  whatever  be  the 
State  of  Things  about  him. 

§.  6.  The  Soul  refembles  a  Veflel  filled  with 
Water  :  the  Appearances  of  things  refemble  a  Ray 
falling  upon  its  Surface.  If  the  Water  is  moved, 
the  Ray  will  feem  to  be  moved  likewife,  though  it 
is  in  reality  without  Motion.  W^henever  therefore, 
any  one  is  feized  with  a  Swimming  in  his  Head,  it 
is  not  the  Arts  and  Virtues  that  are  confounded, 
but  the  Mind,  in  which  they  are  :  and,  if  this  re- 
cover its  Compofure,.  fb  will  they  likewife. 


CHAP- 


Ghap.  4.        E  P  I  C  T  E.  T  U  Si  209 

C  H  A  P  T  E  R    IV. 

Concern'mg  one  who  exerted  himfelf^  'with  indecent 
Eagernejs  in  the  theatre, 

§.  I,  "T^- 7  HEN  the  Governor  of  Eprus  had  ex- 
W  erted  himfelf  indecently,  in  favour  of 
a  Comedian,  and  was,  upon  that  Account,  publicly 
railed  at ;  and,  when  he  came  to  hear  it,  was  highly 
difpieafed  with  thofe  who  railed  at  him  :  Why  : 
what  Harm,  fays  Epi5fetus^  have  thefe  People 
done  ?  They  have  favoured  a  Player  j  which  is 
jufl  what  you  did. 

Is  this  a  proper  Manner  -then,  of  exprefiing  their 
Favour  ? 

Seeing  you,  their  Governor,  and  the  Friend  and 
Vicegerent  of  Cafar^  exprefs  it  thus,  was  it  not  to 
be  expeded,  that  they  would  exprefs  it  thus  too  ? 
For,  if  it  is  not  right  to  exprefs  Favour,  in  this 
Manner,  to  a  Player,  be  not  guilty  of  it  yourfelf ; 
and,  if  it  is,  why  are  you  angry  at  them,  for  imi- 
tating you  ?  For  v/hom  have  the  Many  to  imitate, 
hmyou^  their  Superiors  ?  From,  v/hom  are  they  to 
take  Example,  when  they  come  into  the  Theatre, 
but  from  jy(?« /"  "  Do  but  look  how  Cafars  Vice- 
*'  gerent  fees  the  Play  ?  Hath  he  cried  out  ?  I  will 
"  cry  out  too.  Hath  he  leaped  up  from  his  Seat? 
"  I  too  will  leap  up  from  mine.  Do  his  Slaves  fit 
''  in  different  Parts  of  the  Houfe,  making  an  Up- 
"  roar  ?  I  indeed  have  no  Slaves  ^  but  I  will  make 
*'  as  much  Uproar  as  I  can  myfelf,  inflead  of  ever 
*'  fo  many." 

§.  2.  You  ought  to  confider  then,  that  when  you 
appear  in  the  Theatre,  you  appear  as  a  Rule  and 
Example  to  others,  how  they  ought  to  fee  the 
Play.  Why  is  it,  that  they  have  railed  at  you  ? 
Becaufe  every  Man  hates  v/hat  hinders  him.     Ihty 

p  vfould 


sio  The  Discov  isisus  of        Book  III. 

would  have  one  Ador  crowned ;  yoUy  another. 
They  hindered  you ;  and  you,  them.  You  proved 
the  flronger.  They  have  done  what  they  could : 
they  have  railed  at  the  Perfon  who  hindered  them. 
What  would  you  have  then  ?  Would  you  do  as 
you  pleafe,  and  not  have  them  even  talk  as  they 
pleafe  ?  Where  is  the  Wonder  of  all  this  ?  Doth 
not  the  Hufbandman  rail  at  Jupiter^  when  he  is 
hindered  by  him  ?  Doth  not  the  Sailor  ?  Do 
Men  ever  ceafe  railing  at  Cdsfarf  What  then,  is 
Jupiter  ignorant  of  this  ?  Are  not  the  Things  that 
are  faid,  reported  to  C^far  ?  How  then  doth  he 
ad  ?  He  knows,  that,  if  he  was  to  punifh  all  Rail- 
ers,  he  would  have  nobody  left  to  command. 

§.  3.  When  you  enter  the  Theatre  then,  ought 
you  to  fay,  '*  Come,  let  Sophron  (a)  be  crowned?'* 
No.  But,  "  Come,  let  me  preferve  my  Choice,  in 
*'  a  Manner  conformable  to  Nature,  upon  this 
"  Occafion.  No  one  is  dearer  to  me  than  my- 
*'  felf  It  is  ridiculous  then,  that,  becaufe  another 
*'  Man  gains  the  Vidory  as  a  Player,  /  fhould  be 
*^  hurt.  Whom  do  I  wifh  to  gain  the  Vidory  ^ 
*'  Him  who  doth  gain  it ;  and  thus  he  will  always 

*'  be  vidorious,  whom  I  wifh  to  be  fo.*' But  I 

would  have  Sophron  crowned. Why,  celebrate 

as  many  Games  as  you  will,  at  your  own  Houfe ; 
Nemean^  Pythian^  Ifihmiany  Olympic ;  and  proclaim 
him  Vidor  in  all :  but,  in  public,  do  not  arrogate 
more  than  your  Due,  nor  feize  to  yourfelf  what  lies 
in  common ;  otherwife,  bear  to  be  railed  at :  for, 
if  you  ad  like  the  Mob,  you  reduce  yourfelf  to  an 
Equality  with  them. 

^^z^  The  Name  of  a  Player.    UpTOiNr. 


CHAP- 


Chap:  5.        EPICTETUS.  211 


CHAPTER    V. 

(h)  Concerm7ig  thofe  who  pet  end  Sicknefs^  as  an  Ex* 
cufe  to  return  home. 

§.  I.  T  Am  Tick  here,  faid  one  of  the  Scholars.  "I 

X  will  return  home. 
Were  you  never  fick  at  home  then }  Confider, 
whether  you  are  doing  any  thing  here,  conducive 
to  the  Regulation  of  your  Choice :  for,  if  you  make 
no  Improvement,  it  was  to  no  Purpofe  that  you 
came.  Go  home.  Take  care  of  your  domeflic 
Affairs.  For,  if  your  ruling  Faculty  cannot  be 
brought  to  a  Conformity  to  Nature,  your  Land 
may.  You  may  increafe  your  Money,  fupport  the 
old  Age  of  your  Father,  mix  in  the  public  Affem- 
blies,  and  make  a  bad  Governor,  as  you  are  a  bad 
Man,  and  do  other  Things  of  that  fort.  But,  if 
you  are  confcious  to  yourfelf,  that  you  are  calling 
off  ibme  of  your  wrong  Principles,  and  taking  up 
different  ones  in  their  room,  and  that  you  have 
transferred  your  Scheme  of  Life  from  Things  not 
dependent  on  Choice,  to  thofe  which  are  ;  and  that, 
if  you  do  fometimes  cry  alas^  it  is  not  upon  the 
Account  of  your  Father,  or  your  Brother,  but  your- 
felf; why  do  you  any  longer  plead  Sicknefs  {c)  ? 
Do  not  you  know,  that  both  Sicknefs  and  Death 
mufl  overtake  us }  At  what  Employment }  The 
Hufbandman,  at  his  Plow  ;  the  Sailor,  on  his  Voy- 
age. At  what  Employment  would  you  be  taken  ? 
For,  indeed,  at  what  Employment  ought  you  to  be 
taken  .^  If  there  is  any  better  Employment,  at 
P  2  which 

(I)  The  Greek  Title  to  this  Chapter  is  defetStivc.  Noro» 
Teems  to  be  the  Word  wanting.  Or,  if  AtxirT^xTrcj  fignifies,  to 
pretend,  as  TrT^ocTru  doth,  the  true  Reading  of  the  Text  may  be? 
^§05  Toy?  vocrov  h<tir')\un:'rou,tvovq. 

(c)  Eftg.    Et»,  probably,  ihould  be,  E/xe.    T»  8t>. 


212  y/?^  Discou  RSES  o/        Book  III. 

which  you  can  be  taken,  follow  that.     For  my 
own  Part,  I  would  be  taken  engaged  in  nothing, 
but  in  the  Care  of  my  own  Faculty  of  Choice ;  how 
to  render  it  undifturbed,  unreftrained,  uncompel- 
led,  free.  I  would  be  found  fliidying  this,  that  1  may 
be  able  to  fay  to  God,  "Have  I  tranfgrefTed  thy  Com- 
*'  mands  ?     Have   I  perverted  the   Powers,    the 
**  Senfes,    the  Pre- conceptions,   which   thou  haft 
*'  given  me?     Have  I  ever  accufed  Thee,  or  cen- 
''  fured  Thy  Difpenfations  ?     I  have  been  fick,  be- 
*'  caufe  it  was  Thy  Pleafure ;  and  fo  have  others ; 
"  but  /  willingly.     I  have  been  poor,  it  being  thy 
*'  Will;  but  with  Joy.     I  have  not  been  in  Power ; 
■  *'  becaufe  it  was  not  thy  Will ;  and  Power  I  have 
*'  never  defired.     Hafl  thou  ever  feen  me  out  of 
*'  Humour,  upon  this^  Account  ?     Have  I  not  al- 
"  ways  approached  Thee,  with  a  chearful  Coun- 
*'  tenance ;  prepared  to  execute  Thy  Commands, 
"  and  the  Significations  of  thy  Will  ?     Is  it  Thy 
*'  Pleafure,  that  I  fnould  depart  from  this  Affem- 
*'  bly  ?     I  depart.     I  give  Thee  all  Thanks,  that 
*'  Thou  haft  thought  me  worthy  to  have  a  Share 
"  in  it,  with  Thee ;  to  behold  Thy  Works,  and 
•'  tojoin  with  Thee,    in  comprehending  Thy  Ad- 
*'  miniftration,'*     Let  Death  overtake  me  while  I 
am  thinking,  while  I  am  writing,  while  I  am  read- 
ing, fuch  Things  as  thefe. 

§.  2.  But  I  (hall  not  have  my  Mother,  to  hold 
my  Head,  when  I  am  fick. 

Get  home  then  to  your  Mother  ;  for  you  are  fit 
to  have  your  Head  held,  when  you  are  fick. 

But  1  uied  at  home,  to  lie  on  a  fine  Couch. 

Get  to  this  Couch  of  yours ;  for  you  are  fit  to  lie 
upon  fuch  a  one,  even  in  Health :  fo  do  not  lofe  the 
doing  what  you  are  qualified  for.  But  what  fays 
Socrates  ?  "  As  one  Man  rejoices  in  the  Improvcr 
*'  ment  of  his  Eftate,  another  of  his  Horfe,  fb  do 
*'  I  daily  rejoice  in  apprehending  myfelf  to  grow 
"  better." 

In 


Chap.  6.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  213 

In  what  ?  In  pretty  Speeches  ? 

Good  Words,  I  intreat  you. 

In  trifling  Theorems  ?  In  what  doth  he  ennploy 
himfelf  ?  For  indeed  I  do  not  fee,  that  the  Philo- 
fophers  are  employed,  in  any  thing  elfe. 

Do  you  think  it  nothing,  never  to  accufe  orcen- 
fure  any  one,  either  God  or  Man  ?  Always  to  car- 
ry  abroad,  and  bring  home,  the  fame  Countenance  ? 
Thefe  were  the  Things  which  Socrates  knew ;  and 
yet  he  never  profeffed  to  know,  or  to  teach  any 
thing ;  but  if  any  one  wanted  pretty  Speeches,  or 
little  Theorems,  he  brought  him  to  Protagoras,  to 
Hippias  :  jufl  as  if  any  one  had  come  for  Pot-herbs, 
he  would  have  taken  him  to  a  Gardener.  Who  of 
-you  then  hath  fuch  an  [eameft]  Intention  as  this  ? 
If  you  had,  you  would  bear  Sicknefs,  and  Hunger, 
and  Death,  with  Chearfulnefs.  If  any  of  you  hath 
been  in  Love,  he  knows  that  I  fpeak  Truth. 

CHAPTER    VI. 

Mifcellaneous, 

§.  I.  \T7HEN  he  wasafked.  How  {a)  it  came 
W  to  pafs,  that,  though  the  Art  of  Rea- 
foning  is  more  fludied  now,  yet  the  Improvements 
were  greater,  formerly  ?  In  what  Inftance,  an- 
fwered  he,  is  it  more  fludied  now  \  and  in  what 
were  the  Improvements  greater,  then  ?  For  in  what 
Is  fludied,  at  prefent,  in  that  will  be  found  likewife 
the  Improvements,  at  prefent.  The  prefent  Study 
is  the  Solution  of  Syllogifms  •,  and  in  this,  Improve- 
ments are  made.  But  formerly,  the  Study  was  to 
preferve  the  governing  Faculty  conformable  to  Na- 
P  3  t^^re; 

(a)  By  changing  twv  into  ^rw?,  and,  as  Mr.  Upton  propofcs, 
woTt^ov  into  w^oTigoir,  the  whole  Difficulty  of  this  corrupted  Paf- 
fage  is  removed. 


fti4  ^^^  Discou  RSES  of         Book  III. 

ture  ;  and  Improvement  was  made  in  that.  There- 
fore do  not  confound  Things  ;  nor  when  you  ftudy 
one,  expecl  Improvement  in  another  ;  but  fee  whe- 
ther any  of  us,  who  applies  himfelf  to  think  and 
adt  conformably  to  Nature,  ever  fails  of  Improve- 
ment.    Depend  upon  it,  you  will  not  find  one. 

§.  2.  A  good  Man  is  invincible ;  for  he  doth  not 
contend,  where  he  is  not  fuperior.  If  you  would 
have  his  Land,  take  it :  take  his  Servants ;  take 
his  public  Poll  i  take  his  Body.  But  you  will  ne- 
ver fruflrate  his  Defire,  nor  make  him  incur  his 
Averfion,  He  engages  in  no  Combat,  but  what 
concerns  the  Objeds  of  his  own  Choice.  How 
can  he  fail  then  to  be  invincible? 

§.  3.  Being  alked,  what  common  Senfe  was } 
he  anfwered;  As  that  maybe  called  a  common 
Ear,  which  diftinguillies  only  Sounds;  but  that, 
which  diftinguifhes  Notes,  an  artificial  one  :  fo  there 
are  fome  Things,  which  Men,  not  totally  perver- 
ted, difcern  by  their  common  natural  Powers  ; 
and  fuch  a  Difpofition  is  called  common  Senle. 

§.  4.  It  is  not  eafy  to  gain  the  Attention  of  effe- 
minate young  Men  •,  for  you  cannot  take  Cuflard 
by  a  Hook :  but  the  Ingenuous,  even  if  you  dii^ 
courage  them,  are  the  more  eager  for  Learning. 
Hence  Rufus^  for  the  moft  part,  did  difcourage 
them ;  and  made  ufe  of  that,  as  a  Criterion  of  the 
Ingenuous  and  Difmgenuous.  For  he  ufed  to  fay, 
Asa  Stone,  even  if  you  throw  it  up,  will,  by  its 
own  Propenfity,  be  carried  downward  ;  fo  an  inge- 
nuous Mind,  the  more  it  is  forced  from  its  na- 
tural Bent,  the  more  ftrongly  will  it  incline  tq- 
\^jirds  it. 


CHAP^ 


Chap.  7.         EPICTETUS.  215 


CHAPTER    VII. 

Concerning  a  Governor  of  the  Free  States^  who  was 
an  Epicurean. 

§.  I .  VT  THEN  the  Governor,  who  was  an  Epi- 
W  curean^  came  to  him  ;  It  is  fit,  fays  he, 
that  we  ignorant  People  fhould  enquire  of  you  Phi- 
lofbphers,  what  is  the  mofl  valuable  Thing,  in  the 
World  ;  as  thofe  who  come  into  a  ftrange  City  do 
of  the  Citizens,  and  flich  as  are  acquainted  with  it ; 
that,  after  this  Enquiry,  we  may  go  and  take  a 
View  of  it,  as  they  do  in  Cities.  Now,  fcarcely 
any  one  denies,  but  that  there  are  three  Things  be- 
longing to  Man ;  Soul,  Body,  and  Externals.  It 
remains  for  you  to  anfwer  which  is  the  beft.  What 
ihall  we  tell  Mankind  .?  Is  it  Flefli  > 

And  was  it  for  this,  that  Maximus  took  a  Voy- 
age in  Winter  as  far  as  Cafficpe,  to  accompany  his 
Son  ^     Was  it  to  gratify  the  Flefh  ? 

No,  furely. 

Is  it  not  fit  then,  to  employ  our  chief  Study  on 
what  is  befl } 

Yes,  beyond  all  other  Things. 

What  have  we,  then,  better  than  Flefh  ? 

The  Soul. 

Are  we  to  prefer  the  Good  of  the  Better,  or  of 
the  Worfe } 

Of  the  Better. 

Doth  the  Good  of  the  Soul  confifl  in  what  is  de- 
pendent, or  independent,  on  Choice  ? 

In  what  is  dependent  on  it. 

Doth  the  Pleafure  of  the  Soul  then,  depend  on 
Choice .? 

It  doth. 

And  whence  doth  this  Pleafure  arife.^  From  it- 
felf  ?    This  is  unintelligible.    For  there  muft  fub- 

P  4  fift 


ft i6  ne  Discourses,    of      Book  III* 

fift  fome  principal  Eflence  of  Good,  in  the  At- 
tainment of  which,  we  fhall  enjoy  this  Pleafure  of 
the  Soul. 

This  too  is  granted. 

In  what  then  confifts  this  Pleafure  of  the  Soul } 
For  if  it  be  in  mental  Objects,  the  EiTence  of  Good 
isfound  {a).  For  it  is  impoffible,  that  we  ihould 
be  reafonably  elated  with  Pleafure,  unlefs  by  Good  ; 
or  that,  if  the  leading  Caufe  is  not  good,  the  Ef- 
fe(fl  (hould  be  good.  For,  to  make  the  Effed 
reafonable,  the  Caufe  muft  be  good.  But  this,  if 
you  are  in  your  Senfes,  you  will  not  allow  \  for  it 
would  be  to  contradid  both  Epicurits^  and  the  reft 
of  your  Principles.  It  remains  then,  that  the  Plea- 
fures  of  the  Soul  maufl  confift  in  bodily  Objeds  \  and 
that  there  mufl  be  the  leading  Caufe,  and  the  Ef- 
fence  of  Good.  M^;>^iw//J  therefore  did  foolifhly,  if 
he  took  a  Voyage  for  the  Sake  of  any  thing  but 
Body  •,  that  is,  for  the  Sake  of  what  is  beft.  He 
doth  foolifhly  too,  if  he  refrains  from  what  is  ano- 
ther's, when  he  is  a  Judge,  and  able  to  take  it.  But 
let  us  confider  only  this,  if  you  pleafe,  how  it  may 
be  done  fecretly,  and  fafely,  and  fo  that  no  one  may 
know  it.  For  Epicurus  himfelf  doth  not  pronounce 
Stealing  to  be  evil,  only  the  being  found  out  in  it : 
and  fays,  ''  Do  not  fteal ;"  for  no  other  Reafon, 
but  becaufe  it  is  impolTible  to  infure  ourfelves  againft 
a  Difcovery.  But  I  fay  to  you,  That,  if  it  be  done 
dextroully  and  cautioufly,  we  fhall  not  be  difco* 
vered.  Befides:  we  have  powerful  Friends,  of 
both  Sexes,  at  Rome  •,  and  the  Greeks  are  weak ; 
and  nobody  will  dare  to  go  up  to  Rome^  on  fuch  an 
Affair,  Why  do  you  refrain  from  your  own  proper 
Good  ?  It  is  Madnefs ;  it  is  Folly.  But  if  you 
were  to  tell  me,  that  you  do  refrain,  I  would  not 
believe  you.     For,  as  it  is  impollible  to  aflent  to  an 

apparent 

(a)  The  Tranflation  follov/s  Lord  Shqftejhurys  Correftion  of 
4't';-j»;;o»c,  for  ayr^Sci? ;  v.hich  fcems  abfolutei/  neceffary  to  the 
Scnle  of  the  Paflage. 


Chap.  7:         E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  217 

apparent  Faldiood,  or  to  deny  an  apparent  Truth, 
fo  it  is  impoflible  to  abftain  from  an  apparent 
Good.  Now,  Riches  are  a  Good ;  and,  indeed, 
the  chief  Inflrument  of  Pleafures.  Why  do  not 
you  acquire  them  ?  And  why  do  not  we  corrupt 
the  Wife  of  our  Neighbour,  if  it  can  be  done  fe- 
cretly  ?  And,  if  the  Hulband  fliould  happen  to  be 
impertinent,  why  not  cut  his  Throat  too  P  if  you 
have  a  mind  to  be  fuch  a  Philofopher  as  you  ought  to 
be,  a  complete  one,  to  be  confiflent  with  your  own 
Principles.  Otherwife  you  will  not  differ  from  us, 
who  are  called  Stoics.  For  we  too  fay  one  Thing, 
and  do  another :  we  talk  well,  and  ad  ill :  but 
you  will  be  perverfe  in  a  contrary  Way  ;  teach  bad 
Principles,  and  ad  well. 

§.  2.  For  Heaven^s  fake  reprefent  to  yourfelf  a 
City  of  Epicureans  {b).  ''  I  do  not  marry.'*  "  Nor 
"  I.  For  we  are  not  to  marry,  nor  have  Children  ; 
"  nor  to  engage  in  public  Affairs.'*  What  will  be 
the  Confequence  of  this  ?  Whence  are  the  Citizens 
to  come  }  Who  will  educate  them  .?  Who  will  be 
the  Governor  of  the  Youth }  Who,  the  Mailer  of 
their  Exercifes  ^  What  then,  will  he  teach  them  ? 
Will  It  be  what  ufed  to  be  taught  at  Athens,  or 
Lacedemon  ?  Take  a  young  Man ;  bring  him  up, 
according  to  your  Principles.  Thefe  Principles  are 
wicked  ;  fubverfive  of  a  State ;  pernicious  to  Fa- 
milies ;  nor  becoming,  even  to  Women.  Give 
them  up,  Sir.  You  live  in  a  capital  City.  You  are 
to  govern,  and  judge  uprightly,  and  to  refrain 
from  w^hat  belongs  to  others.  No  one's  Wife,  or 
Child,  or  Silver  or  Gold  Plate,  is  to  have  any 
Charms  for  you  ;  but  your  own.  Provide  yourfelf 
With  Principles,  confbnant  to  thefe  Truths  j  and, 
fetnng  out  from  thence,  you  will  with  Pleafure  re- 
frain from  Things  foperfuafive  to  miilead,  and  cret 
the  better.    But,  if  to  their  own  perfuafive  Force, 

we 
■^%w      ^^^  Tranflatlon    follows  the   Reading  of  Woijius. 


2 1 8  The  Discourses  of       Book  111. 

we  add  fuch  a  Philofbphy,  as  hurries  us  upon  them, 
and  confirms  us  in  them,  what  will  be  the  Confe- 
quence  ? 

§.3.  In  a  fculptured  Vafe,  which  is  the  bed  -,  the 
Silver,  or  the  Workmanfhip  ?  In  the  Hand,  the 
.Subflance  is  Flefh  :  but  its  Operations  are  the  prin- 
cipal Thing.  Accordingly,  the  Duties,  relative 
to  it,  are  likewife  threefold  ;  fome  have  refped  to 
mere  Exiflence  •,  others,  to  the  manner  ofExift- 
ence;  and  a  third  Sort  are  the  leading  Operations 
themfelves.  Thus  likewife,  do  not  fet  a  Value  on 
the  Materials  of  Man,  mere  paultry  Flefh ;  but  on 
the  principal  Operations  belonging  to  him. 

What  are  thefe  ? 

Engaging  in  public  Bufinefs;  Marrying*  the 
Production  of  Children  ;  the  Worfhip  of  God ;  the 
Care  of  our  Parents  ;  and,  in  general,  the  having 
our  Defires  and  Averfions,  our  Purfuits  and  Avoid- 
ances, fuch  as  each  of  them  ought  to  be,  confor- 
mable to  our  Nature. 

What  is  our  Nature  ? 

To  be  free,  noble  fpirited,  modeft.  (For  what 
other  Animal  blufhes  ?  What  other  hath  the  Idea 
of  Shame  ?)  But  Pleafure  muft  be  fubjeded  to 
there>  as  an  Attendant  and  Handmaid,  to  call  forth 
our  Adivity,  and  to  keep  us  conftant  in  natural 
Operations. 

But  I  am  rich,  and  want  nothing. 

Then  why  do  you  pretend  to  philofophize  ?  Your 
Gold  and  Silver  Plate  is  enough  for  you.  What 
need  have  you  of  Principles } 

Befides,  I  am  Judge  of  the  Greeks. 

Do  you  know  how  to  judge  ?  Who  hath  impar- 
ted this  Knowledge  to  you  ? 

Cafar  hath  given  me  a  Commiilion. 

Let  him  give  you  a  Commillion  to  judge  of  Mu- 
fic ;  and  what  Good  v/ill  it  do  you  ?  But  how  were 
vou  made  a  Judge  ^  Whofe  Hand  have  you  kifTed  ^ 

That 


Chap.  S.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  219 

That  of  SymphoruSy  or  Niimenius  (c)  ?  Before  whofe 
Bed-chamber  have  you  ilept  ?  To  whom  have 
^you  fent  Prefents  ?  After  all,  do  you  perceive,  that 
the  Office  of  Judge  is  of  the  fame  Value  as  Nu- 
menius  ? 

But  I  can  throw  whom  I  pieafe  into  Prifon. 

As  you  may  a  Stone. 

But  I  can  beat  whom  I  will  too. 

As  you  may  an  Afs.  This  is  not  a  Government 
over  Men.  Govern  us  like  reafonable  Creatures. 
Show  us  what  is  for  our  Interell,  and  we  will  pur- 
fue  it :  fhow  us  what  is  againfl  our  Intereft,  and 
we  will  uvoid  it.  Like  Socrates^  make  us  Imitators 
of  yourfelf.  He  was  properly  a  Governor  of  Men, 
who  fubjedted  their  Defires  -and  Averfions,  their 
Purfuits,  their  Avoidances,  to  himfelf  "  Do  this ; 
"  do  not  do  that,  or  I  will  throw  you  into  Prifon.'* 
Going  thus  far  only,  is  not  governing  Men,  like 
reafonable  Creatures.  But——''  Do  as  Jupiter 
"  hath  commanded,  or  you  will  be  punilhed.  You 
will  be  a  Lofer." 

What  fhall  I  lofe  .? 
.   Nothing  more,  than  the  not  doing   what  you 
ought.     You  will  lofe  your  Fidelity,  Honour,  De- 
cency.    Look  for  no  greater  LolTes,  than  thefe. 

CHAPTER    VIIL 

Ho'w  we  are  to  exercife  our/elves^  ogainji  the  Appear^ 
ances  of  things. 

§.  I.  T  N  the  fame  manner,  as  we  exercife  our- 

JL  felves,    againft  fophiflical  Queflions,    we 

fhould  exercife   ourfelves  likewife,    in  relation  to 

luch  Appearances,  as  every  Day  occur :  for  thefe 

too  offer  Queflions  to  us. Such  a  one's  Son  is 

dead. 

[c]  Of Symphorus  and  Numem'us  there  is  no  Account ;  and  their 
Names  ferve  only  to  Ihow,  that  Perfons  once  of  fuch  Power  arc 
now  totally  forgot. 


220  *lhe  Discourses  of        Book  III, 

dead.     What  do  you  think  of  it  ?     Anfwer  :  it  is 

independent  on  Choice  :  it  is  not  an  Evil. Such 

a  one  is  difmherited  by  his  Father.  What  do  you 
think  of  it  ^    It  is  independent  on  Choice  :  it  is  not 

an  Evil. C<ffar  hath  condemned  him. This 

is  independent  on  Choice :  it  is  not  an  Evil He 

hath  been  afflidted  by  it. This  is  dependent  on 

Choice  :  it  is  an  Evil. He  hath  fupported  it 

bravely. This  is  dependent  on  Choice  :  it  is 

a  Good. 

§.  2.  If  we  accuflom  ourfelves  in  this  manner, 
we  fhall  make  an  Improvement ;  for  we  fhall  ne- 
ver afient  to  any  thing,  but  what  the  Appearance 

itfelf  comprehends.     A  Son  is  dead. What  hath 

happened  ? A  Son  is  dead. Nothing  more  ? 

—  Nothing. A   Ship  is  loft. — —What  hath 

happened  ^ A  Ship  is  loft.     He  is  carried  to 

Prifon. What  hath  happened  ? He  is  carried 

to  Prifon.  That  he  is  unhappy^  is  an  Addition,  that 
every  one  makes  of  his  own.-*—''  But  Jupiter 

doth  not  order  thefe  Things  right." Why  fo  ? 

Becaufe  he  hath  made  you  patient  ?  Becaufe  he  hath 
hath  made  you  brave  ^  Becaufe  he  hath  made 
them  to  be  no  Evils  ?  Becaufe  it  is  permitted  you, 
while  you  fuffer  them,  to  be  happy  .?  Becaufe  he 
hath  opened  you  the  Door,  whenever  they  do  not 
fuit  you  ^     Go  out,  Man,  and  do  not  complain  {a) . 

§.3.  If  you  would  know  how  the  Romans  treat 
Philofophers,  hear.  Italicus^  efteemed  one  of  the 
greateft  Philofophers  among  them,  being  in  a  Paf- 

fion 

(a)  ^t  is  plain,  the  Stoics  could  not  deny  many  of  thofe 
Things  to  be  very  feverely  painful,  which  they  maintain  to  be 
no  Evils ;  fince  they  fo  continually  point  at  Self-murder  as  the 
Remedy,  The  lenient  reviving  Medicine,  Future  Hope,  they 
knew  nothing  of ;  and  their  only  Alternative,  was  an  unfeeling 
Contempt,  or  a  blind  Defpair.  To  feel  tenderly  the  Lofs  of  a 
Son,  and  yet  with  meek  Piety  fupport  it,  sinCL  give  Thanks  al- 
nvaysy  for  all  Things y  untoGody  and  the  Father y  in  humble  Faith 
of  their  working  together  for  our  Goody  was  an  Effort,  beyon4 
Stoicifm  to  teach. 


Chap.  9.  EPICTETUS.  221 

fion  with  his  own  People,  as  if  he  had  fufFered  fome 
intolerable  Evil,  faid  once  when  I  was  by,  "  I  can- 
*'  not  bear  it ;  you  are  the  Ruin  of  me ;  you  will 
"  make  me  jufl  like  him  i"  pointing  to  me. 

CHAPTER    IX. 

Concerning  a  certain  Orator^  who  was  going  to  Rome 
on  a  Law  Suit. 

§.  I.  XT  7  HE  N  a  Perfon  came  to  him,  who  was 
W  going  to  Rome^  on  a  Law  Suit,  in  which 
his  Dignity  was  concerned  ;  and,  after  telling  him 
the  Occafion  of  his  Journey,  alked  him,  what  he 
thought  of  the  Affair  ?  If  you  alk  me,  fays  Epic- 
tetus,  what  will  happen  to  you  at  Rome,  and  whe- 
ther you  ihall  gain,  or  lofe  your  Caufe,  I  have  no 
Theorem  for  this.  But  if  ^-ou  afk  me,  how  you 
Ihall  fare ;  i  can  anfwer,  If  you  have  right  Princi- 
ples, well;  if  wrong  ones,  ill.  For  Principle  is  to 
every  one,  the  Caufe  of  Adtion.  For  what  is  the 
Reafon,  that  you  fo  earneftly  defired  to  be  voted 
Governor  of  the  Gnnjftans  ^  Principle.  What  is 
the  Reafon,  that  you  are  now  going  to  Rome  ?  Prin- 
ciple. And  in  Winter  too;  and  w^ith  Banger, 
and  Expence  ?  Why :  becaufe  it  is  neceilary. 
What  tells  you  fo  ?  Principle.  If  then,  Principles 
are  the  Caufes  of  all  our  Adlions,  where-ever  any 
one  hath  bad  Principles,  the  Effedt  will  be  anfwer- 
able  to  the  Caufe.  Well  then  :  are  all  our  Princi- 
ples found }  Are  both  yours,  and  your  Antagoniils  ? 
How  then  do  you  differ  ^  Or  are  yours  better  than 
his  ?  Why  ^  You  think  fo  :  and  fo  doth  he,  that  his  are 
better;  and  fo  do  Madmen.  This  is  a  bad  Criterion.  But 
Ihow  me,  that  you  have  made  fome  Examination, 
and  taken  fome  Care  of  your  Principles.  As  you' 
now  take  a  Voyage  to  Rome,  for  the  Government 
of  the  Gnojfmns,  and  are  not  contented  to  flay  at 
home,  with  the  Honours  you  before  enjoyed,'  but 
defire  fomething  greater,  and  more  illuftrious  ;  did 

you 


222  Tht  Discourses  of        Book  III. 

you  ever  take  fuch  a  .Voyage,  in  order  to  examine 
your  own  Principles  \  and  to  throw  away  the  bad 
ones,  if  you  happened  to  have  any  ?  Did  you  ever 
apply  to  any  one,  upon  this  Account  ?  What  Time 
did  you  ever  let  yourfelf  ?  What  Age  ?  Run  over 
your  Years.  If  you  are  afhamed  of  me,  do  it  to 
yourfelf.  Did  you  examine  your  Principles, 
when  you  were  a  Child  ?  Did  you  not  then  do 
every  thing,  jufl  as  you  do  every  thing,  now  ? 
When  you  were  a  Youth,  and  frequented  the 
Schools  of  the  Orators,  and  made  Declamations 
yourfelf,  did  you  ever  imagine,  that  you  were  defi- 
cient in  any.thing  ?  And  when  you  became  a  Man, 
and  entered  upon  public  Bufmefs,  pleaded  Caufes, 
and  acquired  Credit,  who,  any  longer,  appeared 
to  be  equal,  to  you  .^  How  would  you  have  borne, 
that  any  one  fhould  examine,  whether  your  Prin- 
ciples were  bad  ?  What,  then,  •would  you  have 
me  fay  to  you  } 

Aflift  me  in  this  Affair. 

I  have  no  Theorem  for  that.  Neither  are  you 
come  to  me,  if  it  be  upon  that  Account  you  came, 
as  to  a  Philofopher ;  but  as  you  would  come  to  ar> 
Herb-feller,  or  a  Shoe-maker. 

To  what  Purpofes  then,  have  the  Philofophers 
Theorems  \ 

For  preferving  and  conducing  the  ruling  Faculty 
conformably  to  Nature,  whatever  happens.  Do 
you  think  this  a  fmall  Thing  .^ 

No :  but  the  greatefl. 

Well :  and  doth  it  require  but  a  fhort  time  ^ 
And  may  it  be  taken,  as  you  pafs  by  ?  If  you  can, 
take  it  then  :  and  fo  you  will  fay,  "  I  have  vifited 

*'  Epi5ietus.'" Ay  :  jufl  as  you  would  a  Stone, 

or  a  Statue.  For  you  have  feen  me,  and  nothing 
more.  But  he  vifits  a  Man,  as  a  Man,  who  learns 
his  Principles ;  and,  in  return,  fhows  his  own.  Learn 
my  Principles.  Show  me  yours.  ^he7i  fay,  you 
have  vifited  me.    Let  us  confute  each  other.    If  I 

have 


Chap.  9.         E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  223 

have  any  bad  Principle,  take  it  away.  If  you  have 
any,  bring  it  forth.  This  is  vifiting  a  Philofophen. 
No.  But  **  It  lies  in  our  Way;  and,  while  we  are 
"  about  hiring  a  Ship,  we  may  call  on  Epi^etus, 
"  Let  us  fee  what  it  is  he  fays."  And  then,  when 
you  are  gone,  you  fay,  "  Epi^lettis  is  nothing.  His 
*'  Language  was  inaccurate,  was  barbarous."  For 
what  elfe  did  you  come  to  judge  of?  "  Well; 
**  but  if  I  employ  {a)  myfelf  in  thefe  Things,  i 
"  fhall  be  without  an  Eilate,  like  you ;  without  Plate, 
*'  without  Equipage,  like  you." — Nothing  perhaps  is 
necelfary  to  be  faid  to  this,  but  that  I  do  not  want 
them.  But,  if  you  poflefs  many  Things,  you  flill 
want  others :  fo  that,  whether  you  will  or  not,  you 
are  poorer  than  I. 

§.  2.  What  then  do  I  want  } 
What  you  have  not :  Conflancy  •  a  Mind  con- 
formable to  Nature  ;  and  a  Freedom  from  Pertur- 
bation. Patron,  or  no  Patron,  what  care  1  ?  But 
you  do.  I  am  richer  than  you.  I  am  not  anxious 
what  Cafar  will  think  of  me.  I  flatter  no  one,  on 
that  Account.  This  I  have,  Inftead  of  Silver  and 
Gold  Plate.  You  have  your  Veffels,  of  Gold  ;  but 
your  Difcourfe,  your  Principles,  your  AfTents,  your 
Purfliits,  your  Defires,  of  mere  Earthen  Ware. 
When  I  have  all  thefe  conformable  to  Nature,  why 
ihould  not  I  beftow  fbme  Study  upon  my  Reafoning 
too .?  I  am  at  Leifure.  My  Mind  is  under  no  Dif- 
tradion.  In  this  Freedom  from  Diflradlion,  what 
fhall  I  do .?  Have  I  any  thing  more  becoming  a 
Man,  than  this  }  You,  when  you  have  nothing 
[to  do],  are  refllefs ;  you  go  to  the  Theatre,  or 
perhaps  to  bathe  {b).     Why  fhould  not  the  Philo- 

»    fopher 

(a)  The  firft  u<;  I  apprehend  fliould  be  w,  and  13  fo  trsn- 
flated. 

(b)  I  can  find  no  Senfe  of  am'Kvtrt,  which  fults  this  Place, 
Perhaps  the  Reading  fhould  be  »)  apa  Aoyfo-Os ;  and  it  is  fo  tran* 
flated.  Bathing  was  a  common  Amufement  of  idle  People. 
See  B,  III.  c.  24.  p.  495;  of  Mr.  UptoTi'^  Edition, 


224  *^^^  Discourses  of        Book  HI, 

fopher  polifh  his  Reafoning  ?  You  have  fine  {c) 
cryftal  and  myrrhine  Vafes ;  I  have  acute  Forms  of 
Reafoning.  To  you^  all  you  have  appears,  little  j 
to  wf,  all  I  have,  great.  Your  Appetite  is  unfati- 
able;  mine  is  fatisfied.  When  Children  thruft 
their  Hand  into  a  narrow  Jar  of  Nuts  and  Figs,  if 
they  fill  it,  they  cannot  get  it  out  again  ;  then  they 
fall  a  crying.  Drop  a  few  of  them,  and  you  wil! 
get  out  the  reft.  And  do  you  too  drop  your  De- 
fire  :  do  not  covet  many  Things,  and  you  will  get 
[fbme]. 

C  H  A  P  T  E  R    X. 

In  what  Ma72ner  we  ought  to  hear  Sicknefs, 

§.  I.  \T7  E  fhould  have  all  our  Principles  ready, 
W  to  make  u(e  of,  on  every  Occafion.  At 
Dinner,  fuch  as  relate  to  Dinner  j  in  the  Bath,  fuch 
as  relate  to  the  Bath ;  and  in  the  Bed,  fuch  as  relate 
to  the  Bed. 

Let  not  thejlealing  God  of  Sleep  furprifej 
Nor  creep  in  Slumben^  on  thy  weary  Eyes^ 
Ere  ev*ry  Allien  of  the  former  Day 
Stri^ly  thou  doft^  and  right eoufly  fiirvey^ 
What  have  I  done  ?  In  what  have  I  tranfgrefs'd  ? 
What  Good^  or  III^  has  this  Days  Life  exprefs'd  ? 
Where  have  I  faiFd^  in  what  I  ought  to  do  ? 
If  Evil  were  thy  Deeds ^  repent  andmour7t^ 

If  Good  J  rejoice  

Rowe's  Pythagoras. 

We  fhould  retain  thefe  Verfes,  fq  as  to  apply 
them  to  our  Ufe  :  not  merely  to  repeat  them  aloud, 

as . 

(c)  andhonjo  they  quaff  in  Gold, 

Cryftal  and  myrrhine  Cups^  imbofs*d  ivitb  Gem. 

Paradife Regained,  B.  IV.  v.  iiS. 


Chap.  lb.      E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  225 

as  we  do  the  Verfcs  in  Honour  of  Apollo^  [without 
minding  what  we  are  about]  (a). 

§.  2.  Again:  In  a  Fever,  we  fhould  have  fuch 
Principles  ready,  as  relate  to  a  Fever ;  and  not,  as 
foon  as  v/e  are  taken  ill,  to  loie  and  forget  all.  Pro- 
vided 1  do  but  ad  like  a  Philofopher,  let  what  will 
happen.  Some  Way  or  other  depart  I  mufl,  from 
this  frail  Body,  whether  a  Fever  comes,  or  not  (/>). 
What  is  it  to  be  a  Philofopher  }  Is  it  not  to  be  pre- 
pared again  ft  Events  ?  Do  not  you  comprehend, 
that  you  fay,  in  Effedt,  if  I  am  but  prepared  to  bear 
all  Events  with  Calmnefs,  let  what  will  happen  ; 
otherwife,  you  are  like  a  Pancratiafl,  who,  after 
receiving  a  Blow,  fhould  quit  the  Combat.  In  that 
Cafe  indeed  you  may  allowably  leave  off,  and  not 
[run  the  Hazard]  of  being  whipt  {c).  But  what 
fhall  we  get  by  leaving  off  Phiiofophy  ?  What  then 
ought  each  of  us  to  lay  upon  every  difficult  Occa- 
fion  ?  ''  It  v/as  for  this,  that  I  exercifed :  it  was 
*'  for  this,  that  I  prepared  myfelf "  God  fays  to 
you,  give  me  a  Proof  if  you  have  gone  through  the 
preparatory  Combats,  according  to  Rule  (d) :  if  you 
have  followed  a  proper  Diet  j  a  proper  Exercife :  if 
you  have  obeyed  your  Mailer  :  and,  after  this,  do 
you  faint,  at  the  very  Time  of  Adion  ?    Now  is 

(a)  This  Place  is  either  corrupt,  as  Mr.  Upon  thinks;  or 
alludes  to  fonie  antient  Cudom  not  fufficiently  underilood 
now. 

(b)  This  is  a  corrupt  PafTage,  and  the  Tranflation  conjec- 
tural. Perhaps  the  true  Reading  might  be  'jth  ^ot'  «7riX9v>Ta  ts 
aufxccrmhi  «.7n>Am  (At  ;  and  it  is  To  tranflated.  There  is  afimi- 
lar  Turn  of  Exprefiion,  in  the  fifth  Chapter  of  the  fecond 
Book,  which  feems  to  favour  this  Notion.  See  Page  1 89.  L,  i . 
of  Mr.  Upton's  Edition.     ' 

fcj  Which  was  the  Punilhment  of  thofe,  who  prefenrcd 
themfelves,  as  Candidates  at  the  Olympic  Games,  and  did  not 
compiy  witK  the  Rules,  which  were  to  be  obferved,  upon  that 
Occafion.  Epiditm  is  here  fpeaking  of  the  preparatory  Exer- 
cifes,  which  lafted  for  ten  Months  before  the  Combat. 

{d)  St.  Vaul  hath  made  ufe  of  this  very  ExprelTion,  voiiti^ac? 
«S^§»v,  2  T/'w.  ii.  5. 

Q^  the 


226  7*/?^  Discou  RSEs  ^/        Book  HI. 

the  proper  Time  for  a  Fever.  Bear  it  well :  for 
Thirft :  bear  it  well :  for  Hunger :  bear  it  well. 
Is  it  not  in  your  Power  ?  Who  (hall  reftrain  you  ? 
A  Phyfician  may  reftrain  you  from  drinking ;  but 
he  cannot  reftrain  you  from  bearing  your  Thirft, 
well.  He  may  reftrain  you  from  eating  ^  but  he 
cannot  reftrain  you  from  bearing  Hunger,  welL- — 

But  1  cannot  follow  my  Studies. And  for  what 

End  do  you  follow  them.  Wretch  ?  Is  it  not  that 
you  may  be  profperous  ?  That  you  may  be  con- 
ftant  ?  that  you  may  think  and  ad  conformably  to 
Nature  ?  What  reftrains  you,  but  that  in  a  Fever, 
you  may  preferve  your  ruling  Faculty  conformable 
to  Nature  ?  Here  is  the  Proof  of  the  Matter.  Here 
is  the  Trial  of  the  Philofopher  :  for  a  Fever  is  a 
Part  of  Life,  juft  as  a  Walk,  a  Voyage,  or  a  Jour- 
ney. Do  you  read,  when  you  are  walking  ?  No : 
nor  in  a  Fever.  But  when  you  walk  well,  you  have 
every  thing  belonging  to  a  Walker :  fo,  if  you  bear 
a  Fever  well,  you  have  every  thing  belonging  to 
one  in  a  Fever.  What  is  it  to  bear  a  Fever  well  ^ 
Not  to  blame  either  God  or  Man  :  not  to  be  afflic- 
ted at  what  happens :  to  expedt  Death  in  a  right 
and  becoming  Manner ;  and  to  do  what  is  to  be 
done.  When  the  Phyfician  enters,  not  to  dread 
what  he  may  fay ;  nor,  if  he  fhould  tell  you,  that 
you  are  in  a  fair  Way,  to  be  too  much  rejoiced  : 
for  what  good  hath  he  told  you  ?  When  you  were 
in  Health,  what  Good  did  it  do  you  ?  Not  to  be 
dejeded,  when  he  tells  you,  that  you  are  very  ill : 
for  what  is  it  to  be  very  ill  ?  To  be  near  the  Sepa- 
ration of  Soul  and  Body.  What  Harm  is  there  in 
this,  then  .?  If  you  are  not  near  it  now,  will  you 
not  be  near  it  hereafter  .?  What,  will  the  World 
be  quite  overfet  when  you  die  ^  Why  then,  do 
you  flatter  your  Phyfician  i*  Why  do  you  fay,  "  If 
*'  you   pleafe,  Sir,   Iftiall  do  wellfifj?"  Why  do 

you 

{e)  Sec  MpJtb.   Vili.    2.    Kf§*e,  «ay   6jAij?,  ^'yjajrai  f*£  x«9a.fj<7-a>. 
Upton. 


Chap.  If.       EPICTETUS.  327 

you  furnifh  an  Occafion  to  his  Pride  i*  Why  do  not 
you  treat  a  Phyfician,  with  regard  to  an  infignifi- 
cant  Body,  which  is  not  yours,  but  by  Nature  mor- 
tal, as  you  do  a  Shoemaker,  about  your  Foot ;  or 
a  Carpenter,  about  a  Houfe  ?  Thefe  are  the 
Things  neceirary,  to  one  in  a  Fever.  If  he  fulfils 
thefe,  he  hath  what  belongs  to  him.  For  it  is 
not  the  Bufinefs  of  a  Philofopher  to  take  care  of 
theie  mere  Externals  ^  of  his  Wine,  his  Oil,  or 
his  Body  ,  but  his  ruling  Faculty  :  And  how,  with 
regard  to  Externals  ?  So  as  not  to  behave  incon- 
fiderately,  about  them.  What  Occafion  then, 
is  there  for  Fear  ?  What  Occafion  for  An- 
ger (f)^  about  what  belongs  to  others,  and  what  is 
of  no  Value  .?  For,  two  Rules  we  fhould  always 
have  ready  :  That  nothing  is  good  or  evil,  but 
Choice:  and.  That  we  are  not  to  lead  Events, 
but  to  follow  them.  "  My  Brother  ought  not  to 
*'  have  treated  me  fo."  V  ery  true  ;  but  he  muil 
fee  to  that.  However  he  treats  me,  I  am  to  a6t 
right,  with  regard  to  him  ;  for  the  one  is  my  own 
Concern ;  the  other  is  not :  the  one  cannot  be  re- 
ilrained  i  tfie  other  may. 

CHAPTER    Xr, 

Mifcellaneous, 

§.  I.  'Tp  HERE  are  fome  Punifhments  appoinf- 
X  ed,  as  by  a  Law,  for  fuch  as  difobeythe 
divine  Adminiilration.  Whoever  (hall  efleem  any 
thing  good,  except  what  depends  on  Choice,  let 
him  envy,  let  him  covet,  let  him  flatter,  let  him 
be  full  of  Perturbation.  Whoever  efleems  any  thing 
el(e  to  be  evil,  let  him  grieve,  let  him  mourn,  let 

him  lament,  let   him   be  wretched, And  yet, 

though  thus  feverely  punifhed,  we  cannot  defift. 

Q^  2  Remem- 

(f)  ^oSoy,  in  the  Greeky  feems  to  have  crept  fn  from  the 
preceding  <p«C£K70af :   Therefore  ic  is  omitted  io  the  Tranflation, 


izS  57j^  Di  scotJ  R  s  E  s    of       Book  III. 

Remember  what  the  Poet  fays,  of  a  Stranger. 

A  worfe  than  Thou  might  enter  here  fecure  : 
No  rude  Affront  jh all  drive  him  from  my  Door-y 

For  Strangers  come  from  Jove 

Homer. 

§.  2.  This  too  you  (hould  be  prepared  to  fay, 
with  regard  to  a  Father  :  It  is  not  lawful  for  me  to 
affront  you,  Father  ^  even  if  a  worfe  than  you 
fhould  have  come  :  for  all  are  from  paternal  Jove, 
And  fo  of  a  Brother  ;  for  all  are  from  kindred  Jove. 
And  thus  we  Ihall  find  Jove  to  be  the  Infpedor  of 
all  the  other  Relations. 

CHAPTER    XII. 

Of  Afcetic  Exercife, 

§.  I .  "\T  7  E  are  not  to  carry  our  Exercifes  beyond 
W  Nature ;  nor  merely  to  attradl  Admira- 
tion :  for  thus  we,  who  call  ourfelves  Philofbphers, 
fhall  not  differ  from  Jugglers.  For  it  is  difficult 
too,  to  walk  upon  a  Rope ;  and  not  only  difficult, 
but  dangerous.  Ought  we  too,  for  that  Reafon,  to 
make  it  our  Study  to  walk  upon  a  Rope,  or  iet  up 
a  Palm-Tree  {a)  or  grafp  a  Statue  (b)  ?    By  no 

means. 

{a)  A  Tree  remarkable  for  its  being  firalt  and  high.  I  fhould 
imagine  therefore,  that  to/et  up  the  h'alm-Tree  meant  feme  A£b 
of  Dexterity,  not  unlike,  perhaps,  to  that  of  our  modern  Bal- 
lance-mafters:  and  that  the  Artifl  not  only  fet  up,  butafcended 
to  its  Top,  and  there  exhibited  himfelf  in  various  Attitudes. 
What  confirms  me  in  this  Notion  is,  that  thefe  PaJm-Tree  Ar- 
tifts  are  joined  with  the  Rope-dancers ;  their  Profeflions  being 
alike  formed  rn  the  Difficulty  and  Danger.  In  Lucian's  Irea- 
tife  de  Syria  Dea,  we  meet  with  thefe  Men,  under  the  Name  of 
the  ^cmjco^ocriovTiq I  who,  it  leems,  were  frequent  in  Arabia 
and  Syria;  Countries  where  the  Palm  is  known  to  flourifli. 
See  the  new  Edition  of  Lucian.  Tom.  III.  p.  475.  I  am 
obliged  for  this  Note  to  Mr.  Harris. 

(b)  Diogenes  mcd,  in  Winter,  to  grafp  Statues,  when  they 
were  covered  with  Snow,  as  an  Exercife,  to  enure  kimfel-f  t© 
Hardihip.     Dioqsnbs  Laertius. 


Chap.  12.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  229 

means.  It  is  not  every  thing  difficult,  or  danger- 
ous, that  is  a  proper  Exercife ;  but  fuch  Things  as 
are  conducive,  to  what  lies  before  us  to  do. 

And  what  is  it  that  lies  before  us  to  do? 

To  have  our  Defires  and  Averfions  free  from 
Reftraint. 

How  is  that  ? 

Not  to  be  difappointed  of  our  Defire,  nor  incur 
our  Averfion.  To  this  ought  our  Exercife  to  be 
turned.  For,  without  flrong  and  conflant  Exercife,  it 
is  not  poflible  to  preferve  our  Defire  undifappoint- 
ed,  and  our  Averfion  unincurred  ^  and  therefore, 
if  we  fuffer  it  to  be  externally  employed  on  Things 
independent  on  Choice,  be  aflured,  that  your  De- 
fire will  neither  gain  its  Objed,  nor  your  Averfion 
avoid  it. 

§.2.  And,  becaufe  Habit  hath  a  powerful  In- 
fluence, and  we  are  habituated  to  apply  our  Defire 
and  Averfion  to  Externals  only,  we  muft  oppofe 
one  Habit  to  another  ;  and,  where  the  Appearan- 
ces are  mofl  llippery,  there  oppofe  Exercife.  I  am 
inclinable  to  Pleafure.  I  will  (c)  bend  myfelf  be- 
yond a  due  Proportion  to  the  other  Side,  for  the 
fake  of  Exercife.  I  am  averfe  to  Pain.  1  will 
break  and  exercife  the  Appearances  [which  flrike 
my  Mind],  that  I  may  v/ithdraw  my  Averfion, 
from  every  fuch  Objed.  For  who  is  the  Praditi- 
oner  in  Exercife  ?  He  who  endeavours  totally  to 
reflrain  Defire,  and  to  apply  Averfion  only  to 
Things  dependent  on  Choice;  and  endeavours  it 
mofl  in  the  moft  difficult  Cafes.  Hence  different 
Q_  3  Peribns 

fc)  Av  arvxyi^cj  is  varioufly  read.  Perhaps  the  right  Word 
may  be  unarcuxKo-b)  derived  from  TQi^oi  i  which  fignifies,  among 
other  Things,  the  Side  of  a  Ship,  or  Boat.  It  appears  from 
Julius  Pollux,  and  Phrynicm^  in  Stephens"'^  Lexicon,  and  Scoi^^ 
Appendix,  that  avciTQixjiii  is  a  Word  ufed  by  the  Vulgar,  to 
fignify  being  fomctimes  on  one  Side  of  the  VeiTel,  and  fome- 
times  on  the  other  ;  which  agrees  very  well  here  :  I ivilllean 
to  the  oppofite  Side^  &c.  /.  e,  to  keep  the  VeiTcl  even.  I  am  ob- 
liged for  this  Ngte  to  a  Friend. 


230  The  Discourses^/         Book  III. 

Peribns  are  to  be  exercifed,  in  different  Ways. 
"What  fignifies  it,  to  this  Purpofe,  to  fet  up  a  Palm- 
Tree,  or  carry  about  a  Tent  (d)  of  Skins,  or  a 
Peflle  and  Mortar  {d)  ?  If  you  are  hafly,  Man, 
let  it  be  your  Exercife,  to  bear  ill  Language  pati- 
ently •,  and,  when  you  are  affronted,  not  to  be  an- 
gry. Thus,  at  length,  you  may  arrive  at  fuch  a 
Proficiency,  as,  when  any  one  flrikes  you,  to  fay 
to  yourfelf,  "  Let  me  fuppofe  tliis,  to  be  grafping 
*'  a  Statue."  Next,  exercife  yourfelf  to  make  a 
decent  Ufe  of  Wine  :  not  to  drink  a  great  deal ; 
for  even  in  this,  there  are  fome  fo  foolifb  as  to  ex- 
ercife thernfelves :  but  at  firfl  to  abflain  from  it ; 
and  to  abftain  from  a  Girl,  and  from  Delicacies  in 
Eating.  Afterwards  you  will  venture  into  the  Lifts, 
at  fome  proper  Seafon,  by  Way  of  Trial,  if  at  all, 
to  fee  whether  Appearances  get  the  better  of  you, 
as  much  as  they  ufed  to  do.  But  at  firff,  fly  from 
what  is  llronger  than  you.  The  Conteft  of  a  fine 
Girl,  with  a  young  Man,  jufl  initiated  into  Philofo- 
phy,  is  unequal.  The  Brafs  Pot  and  the  Earthen 
Pitcher,  as  the  Fable  fays,  are  an  unfui tabic 
Match. 

§.3.  Next  to  the  Defires  and  Averfions,  is  the 
Second  Oafs,  of  thePurfuits  and  Avoidances;  that 
they  may  be  obedient  to  Reafon  ;  that  nothing  may 
be  done  improperly  in  Point  of  Time  or  Place,  or 
in  any  other  RefpeCL 

§.  '4.  The  Third  Clafs  relates  to  Affent,  and 
what  is  plaufible  and  perlliafive.  As  Socrates  faid, 
that  we  are  not  to  lead  an  unexamined  Life  ;  {q 
neither  are  we  to  admit  an  unexamineci  Appear- 
ance ;  but  to  fay,  "  Stop  :  let  me  fee  what  you  are, 
"  and  whence  you  come."     ^As  the  Watch  fay. 

Show 

(d)  Thefe  Particulars  arc  not  now  underftood  ;  but  fhow, 
in  genera!,  that  the  antient  Philofophers  had  their  ablurd  and 
oltentatious  Aufterities,  and  Mortifications,  as  well  as  the 
Monks,  and  Indian  Philofophers  fince. 


u 


Chap.  15.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  231 

Show  me  the  Ticket.)  "  Have  you  that  Signal 
"  from  Nature,  which  is  neceflary  to  the  Admiliion 
*'  of  every  Appearance  ?" 

§.  5.  In  fhort,  whatever  Things  are  applied  to 
the  Body,  by  thole  who  exercife  it,  if  they  any 
way  afFed  Defire  or  Averfion,  they  may  be  ufed  in 
afcetic  Exercife.  But,  if  this  be  done  for  mere 
Oftentation,  it  belongs  to  one  who  looks  out  and 
hunts  for  fomething  external,  and  feeks  for  Specta- 
tors to  exclaim,  *'  What  a  great  Man!"  Hence 
Afollonius  faid  well.  ''  If  you  have  a  mind  to  ex- 
"  ercife  yourfelf,  for  your  own  Benefit,  when  you 
'^  are  choaking  with  Heat,  take  a  little  cold  Water 

in  your  Mouth ;  and  fpirt  it  out  again,  and  tell 

nobody." 

CHAPTER    XIII. 

What  Solitude  is ;  a7id  what  a  folitary  Per/on, 


§.  I.  OOLITUDE  is  the  State  of  a  helplefs 
i3  Perfon.  For  not  he  who  is  alone,  is  there- 
fore folitary^  any  more  than  one  in  a  Crowd,  the 
contrary.  When  therefore  we  lofe  a  Son,  or  a 
Brother,  or  a  Friend,  on  whom  we  have  been  ufed 
to  repofe,  we  often  fay,  we  are  left  folitary^  even 
in  the  midfl  of  Rome^  where  fuch  a  Crowd  is  con- 
tinually meeting  us ;  where  we  live  among  fo  many, 
and  when  we  have,  perhaps,  a  numerous  Train  of 
Servants.  For  he  is  underflood  to  be  folitary^  who 
is  helplefs  and  expofed  to  fuch  as  would  injure  him. 
Hence,  in  a  Journey  efpecially,  we  call  ourfelves 
folitary,  when  we  fall  among  Thieves :  for  it  is  not 
the  Sight  of  a  Man  that  removes  our  Solitude,  but 
of  an  honejl  Man  -,  a  Man  of  Honour,  and  a  help- 
ful Companion.  If  merely  being  alone  is  fufficient 
for  Solitude,  Jupiter  may  be  faid  to  be  folitary  at 
the  Conflagration,  and  bewail  himfelf,  that  he  hath 
Q^  4  neither 


232  ^he  Discourses  of        Book  111. 

neither  Juno  nor  Pallas^  nor  jlpollo^  nor  Brother, 
nor  Son,  nor  Defcendant,  nor  Relation.  This, 
fome  indeed  fay,  he  doth,  when  he  is  alone  at  the 
Conflagration  [a).  Such  as  thefe,  moved  by  fome 
natural  Principle,  fome  natural  Defire  of  Society, 
and  mutual  Love,  and  by  the  Pleafure  of  Conver- 
fation,  do  not  rightly  confider  the  State  of  a  Perfon 
who  is  alone.  VV^e  ought,  however,  to  be  prepar- 
ed in  feme  manner  for  this  alfo,  to  be  felf-fufticient, 
and  able  to  bear  our  own  Company.  For  as  Jupi- 
ter converfes  with  himfelf,  acquiefces  in  himfelf, 
and  contemplates  his  own  i\dminiftration,  and  is 
employed  in  Thoughts  worthy  of  himfelf;  fo 
fhould  we  too  be  able  to  talk  with  onrfelves,  and 
not  to  need  the  Converfation  of  others ;  nor  be  at 
a  Lofs  [for  Employment]  :  to  attend  to  the  divine 
Adminiftration  ;  to  confider  our  Relation  to  other 
Beings  :  how  we  have  formerly  been  affeded  by 
Events ;  how  we  are  affected  now  :  what  are  the 
Things  that  flill  prefs  upon  us  :  how  thefe  too  may 
be  cured  ;  how  removed  :  if  any  thing  wants  com- 
pleting, to  complete  it,  a:ccording  to  Reafon.  You 
fee,  that  Co'far  hath  procured  us  a  profound  Peace  : 
there  are  neither  Wars,  nor  Battles,  nor  great  Rob- 
beries, nor  Piracies  ;  but  we  may  travel  at  all 
Hours,  and  fail  from  Eaft  to  Weft.  But  can  C^ffar 
procure  us  Peace  from  a  Fever  too }  From  a  Ship- 
wreck }  From  a  Fire  ?  From  an  Earthquake .? 
From  a  Thunder  Storm  .^  Nay,  even  fromLx)ve  ? 
He  cannot.  From  Grief  ?  From  Envy  ^.  No :  not 
from  any  one  of  tl^efe.  But  the  Dodtrine  of  Philofo- 
phers  promifes  to  procure  us  Peace,  from  thefe  too. 
And  what  doth  it  fay  .?  '■  If  you  will  attend  to  me, 
•'  Oi  Mortals,  where-ever  you  are,  and  whatever 
"  you  are  doing,  you ,  fhall  neither  grieve,  nor  be 
*'  angry,  nor  be  compelled,  nor  reftrained :  but  you 

"(hall 

{a)  The   Stoics  held,  fuccefllve  Conflagrations  at  deftined 
Periods  ^  in  which  all  Beings  were  reforbed  into  the  Deity. 


Chap.  13.         E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  233 

'^  fhall   live  impailive,  and  free  from  all."     Shall 
not  he  who  erijoys   this  Peace,   proclaimed,  not  by 
Cdefar  (for  how  iliould  he  have  it  to  proclaim  ?)  but 
by  God,   through  Reafon,  be  contented,  when  he 
is  alone  refleding,  and  confidering;  ''  To  me  there 
**  can  now  no  111  happen  :  there   is  no  Thief,   no 
''  Earthquake.     All   is  full  of  Peace,  all  full  of 
"  Tranquillity ;    every  Road,   every    City,   every 
"  AfTembly.       My      Neighbour,      my     Compa- 
*'  nion,  unable    to    hurt   me."     Another,   whofe 
Care  it  is,  provides  you  with  Food,  with  Clothes^ 
with  Senfes,  with  Pre-conceptions.     Whenever  he 
doth  not  provide  what  is  necelTary,  he  founds  a  Re- 
treat:    He  opens  the   Door,  and    fays  to  you  ♦, 
**  Come."     Whither?     To 'nothing  dreadful ;  but 
to  that,  whence  you  were  made  ;  to  what  is  friendly 
and  congenial,  to  the  Elements  (h).    What  in  you 
v/as  Fire,  goes  away  to  Fire ;  what  was  Earth,  to 
Earth ;  what  Air,  to  Air  -,    what  Water,  to  Wa- 
ter.    There  is  no  Hades^  nor  Acheron^  nor  CocytuSj 
nor  Pyripblegethon  ;  but  all  is  full  of  Gods  and  De- 
mons.    He  who  can  have  fuch  Thoughts  ;  and  can 
look  upon  the  Sun,  Moon,   and  Stars,  and  enjoy 
the  Earth  and  Sea,  is  no  more  Iblicary,  than  he  is 

helplefe.' W^ell :  but  fuppofe  any  one  fhould 

come  and  murder  me,  when  I  am  alone. 

Fool :  not  you ;  but  that  inugniiicant  Body  of 
yours. 

§.  2.  What  Solitude  is  there  then  left?  What 
Dellitution  ^     Why  do  we  make  ourfeives  worfe 

than 

(b)  What  a  melanchol/  Defcnpiion  of  Death,  and  how 
gloomy  the.  Ideas,  in  this  confolatory  Chapter !  All  Beings  re- 
duced to  mere  Elements,  in  iucceliive  Conflagrations  !  A  no- 
ble Cv^ntrall  to  the  Stoic   Nations  upon  this  Subjed:!,  may  be 

produced  fromfevcrai  Paffages  in  the  Scriptures. Then  Jhall 

the  Dtijl  return  to  the  Earthy  as  it  ivas  ;  and  the  Spirit  Jhall  return 
to  God^  njobo  ga<ve  it.  Ecclef.  xii.  7.  For,  if  ive  helie've^  that 
Jefirs  diedy  and  roje  againy  evenfo  them  a.fo,  <vjhich  fieep  in  Jefu?, 
njcill  God  bring  i\:ith  hijn.  i  ThcfT.  iv.  14.  SqcJo.  vi.  39,  40. 
xi.  £5,  26.     I  Or.  vi.  14.    XV.  53.     3  Cor»v.  14,  &c. 


234  ^^■^^  Discourses  of       Book  III. 

than  Children  ?  What  do  they  do,  when  they  are 
left  alone  ?  They  take  up  Shells  and  Dufl :  they 
build  Houfes  ;  then  pull  them  down  :  then  build 
fbmething  eUe  :  and  thus  never  want  Amufement. 
Suppofe  you  were  all  to  fail  away  ;  am  I  to  fit,  and 
cry,  becaufe  I  am  left  alone,  and  folitary  ?  Am  I 
fo  unprovided  with  Shells  and  Dufl  ?  But  Children 
do  this  from  Folly ;  and  we  are  wretched  from 
Wifdom. 

§.  3.  Every  great  Faculty  is  dangerous  to  a  Be- 
ginner (f).  Study  firfl  how  to  live  like  a  Perfon  in 
Sicknefs  ;  that  in  time  you  may  know  how  to  live 
like  one  in  Health.  Abllain  from  Food.  Drink 
Water.  Totally  reprefs  your  Defire,  for  fome 
time,  that  you  may  at  length  ufe  it  according  to 
Reafbn  ;  and,  if  according  to  Reafbn,  [as  you  may,] 
when  you  [come  to]  have  fbme  Good  in  you,  you 
will  ufe  it  well.  No  :  but  we  would  live  immedi- 
ately as  Men  already  wife-,  and  be  of  Service  to 

Mankind. Of  what    Service?      What  are 

you  doing  ?  Why  :  have  you  been  of  Service  to 
your(elf  ?  but  you  would  exhort  them.  Ton  ex- 
hort! Would  you  be  of  Service  to  them,  fhow 
them,  by  your  own  Example,  what  kind  of  Men 
Philoibphy  makes  ;  and  be  not  impertinent.  W^hen 
you  eat,  be  of  Service  to  thofe  who  eat  with  you  ; 
when  you  drink,  to  thofe  who  drink  with  you.  Be 
of  Service  to  them,  by  giving  way  to  all,  yielding 
to  them,  bearing  with  them  -,  and  not  by  throwing 
out  your  own  ill  Humour  upon  them. 

(c)  The  Greeks  from  ^i^nv  nv  hi  to  ^Qic-jxiy,  is  (o  corrupted 
and  unintelligible,  that  it  is  totally  rejei^ed.  Indeed,  the 
Connexion  of  this  Paragraph  with  what  proceeds,  is  by  no 
means  clear. 


CHAP- 


Chap.  14.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  71s 

CHAPTER    XIV. 
Mifccllaneous, 

§.  I.  AS  bad  Performers  cannot  fing  alone,  but 
JnL  in  a  Chorus;  fo  fome  Perlbns  cannot 
walk  alone.  If  you  are  any  thing,'  walk  alone ; 
talk  by  yourfelf;  and  do  not  fl^ulk  in  the  Chorus. 
Think  a  little  at  laft  :  look  about  you  :  fift  your- 
felf, that  you  may  know  what  you  are. 

§.2.  If  a  Perfon  drinks  Water,  or  doth  any 
thing  elfe,  for  the  fake  of  Exercife,  upon  every 
Occafion  he  tells  all  he  meets  \  "  I  drink  Water.'* 
Why  :  do  you  drink  Water  merely  for  the  fake  of 

*  drinking  it  .^  If  it  doth  you  any  Good  to  drink  it, 
drink  it;  if  not,  you  ad  ridiculouHy.  But,  if  it 
is  for  your  Advantage,  and  you  drink  it,  fay  no- 
thing about  it  before  thofe  who  are  apt  to  take  Of- 
fence. What  then  ?  Thefe  are  the  very  People  you 
wifh  to  pleafe. 

§.3.  Of  Actions  (bme  are  performed  on  their 
own  Account ;  others  occafioned  by  Circumfhances : 
fome  proceed  from  Motives  of  Prudence  :  fome 
from  Complaifance  to  others;  and  fome  are  done 
in  purfuance  of  a  Manner  of  Life,  which  v/e  have 
taken  up. 

§.  4.  Two  Things  mufl  be  rooted  out  of  Men  ; 
Conceit  and  Diffidence.  Conceit  lies  in  thinking 
you  want  nothing  :   and  Diffidence,  in  fuppofing  it 

.  impollible,  that,  under  fuch  adverfe  Circumitances, 
you  fhould  ever  fucceed.  Now,  Conceit  is  remove4 
by  Confutation  :  and  of  this  Socra:es  was  the  Au- 
thor. And  [in  order  to  fee]  that  the  Undertaking 
is  not  impradicable,  confider  and  enquire.  The 
Enquiry  itfelf  will  do  you  no  Harm  :  and  it  is  aU 
moft  being  a  Philofopher,   to  enquire,  How   it  is 

poilibie 


2^6  The  Discourses  of        Book  HI. 

poflible  to  make  iife  of  our  Deiire  and  A verfron , 
without  Hindrance. 

§.  5.  I  am  better  than  you ;  for  my  Father  hath 
been  Conful.  1  have  been  a  Tribune,  fays  another, 
and  not  you.  If  we  were  Horfes,  would  you  fay. 
My  Father  was  fwifter  than  yours  ^  I  have  Abun- 
dance of  Oats  and  Hay,  and  fine  Trappings  ?  What 
now,  if,  while  you  were  faying  this,  I  fhould  an- 
fwer ;  ^'  Be  if  fo.  Let  us  run  a  Race  then."  Is 
there  nothing  in  Man  analogous  to  a  Race  in 
Horfes,  by  which  it  may  be  known,  which  is  bet- 
ter or  worfe  ?  Is  there  not  Honour,  Fidelity,  Juflice } 
Show  yourfelf  the  better  in  thefe ;  that  you  may  be 
the  better,  as  a  Man.  But  if  you  tell  me,  you  can 
kick  violently  •,  I  will  tell  you  gain,  that  you 
value  yourfelf  on  the  Property  of  an  Afs. 

CHAPTER    XV. 

Thai  every  Ibing  is  to  he  undertaken  with  Circum^ 
fpe^ion. 

§.  I.  (^>TN  every  Affair  confider  what  precedes 
JL  and  follows ;  and  then  undertake  it. 
Other  wife  you  will  begin  with  Spirit  j  but,  not  hav- 
ing thought  of  the  Confequences,  when  fome  of 
them  appear,  you  wall  fhamefully  defift.  ''  I  would 
*••  conquer  at  the  Olympic  Games:'*  But  confider 
what  proceeds  and  follows,  and  then,  if  it  be 
for  your  Advantage,  engage  in  the  Affair.  You 
mufl  conform  to  Rules;  fubmit  to  a  Diet;  refrain 

from 

(a)  This  XVth  Chapter  makes  the  XXIXth  of  the  Enchiri- 
dion ;  but  with  fome  Varieties  of  Reading.  Particularly,  for 
£v  riif  ccyufvi  Trocpopva-o-ea^eti  here,  is  tn;  rov  aymu  tret^ip'/ia^on  there. 

This  Chapter  hath  a  great  Conformity  jo  Luke  xiv.  28,  &c. 
But  it  is  to  be  obferved,  tjiat  Epi^etus,  both  here,  and  eifewhere* 
■fuppofes  fome  Perfons  incapable  of  being  Philofophers :  that  is, 
virtuous  and  pious  Men  :  but  Chriftianity  requires  and  enables 
all,  to  be  fuch.  ^ 


chap.  is.       EPICTETUS.  237 

from  Dainties ;  exercife  your  Body,  whether  you 
chufe  it  or  not,  at  a  dated  Hour,  in  Heat  and 
Cold  :  you  muft  drink  no  cold  Water  ;  nor,  fome- 
times,  even  Wine  (b).  In  a  woid,  you  mufl  give 
yourfelf  up  to  your  Mafler,  as  to  a  Phyfician.  Then, 
in  the  Combat,  you  may  be  thrown  into  a  Ditch, 
diflocate  your  Arm,  turn  your  Ankle,  fwallow 
Abundance  of  Duft,  be  whipt  (r) ;  and,  after  all, 
lofe  the  Victory.  When  you  have  reckoned  up  all 
this,  if  your  Inclination  flill  holds,  fet  about  the 
Combat.  Otherwife,  take  notice,  you  will  behave 
like  Children,  who  ibmetimes  play  Wrefllers, 
fbmetimes  Gladiators  -,  fometimes  blow  a  Trumpet, 
and  fometimes  ad  a  Tragedy  ;  when  they  happen 
to  have  feen  and  admired  thefe  Shov/s.  Thus  you 
too  will  be,  at  one  Time,  a  W^refller ;  at  another, 
a  Gladiator  ^  nov/,  a  Philofopher  ;  then,  an  Ora- 
tor :  but,  with  your  whole  Soul,  nothing  at  ail. 
Liike  an  Ape,  you  mimick  All  you  fee  ;  and  one 
thing  after  another  is  fure  to  pleafe  you  ;  but  is  out 
of  Favour,  as  foon  as  it  becomes  fam.iliar.  For 
you  have  never  entered  upon  any  thing  confiderate- 
ly,  nor  after  having  viewed  the  whole  Matter  on 
all  Sides,  or  made  any  Scrutiny  into  it;  but  rafhly, 
and  with  a  cold  Inclination.  Thus  feme,  when 
they  have  feen  a  Philofopher,  and  heard  a  Man' 
ipeaking  like  Euphrates  {dj^  ("though,  Indeed,  who 
can  fpeak  like  him,)  have  a  Mind  to  be  Philofo- 
phers  too.  Confider  firfl,  Man,  what  the  Matter 
is,  and  what  your  own  Natuxe  is  able  to  bear.  If  you 

would 

(b)  St.  PWhath  a  fimilar  Allufion  to  the  public  Games,  i 
Cor.  ix.  25.     Both  Writers  have  them  frequently  in  view. 

(c)  Which  v/as  the  Cafe,  in  any  V^iolation  of  the  Laws  of 
tlie  Games. 

(d)  The  Tranflatlon  doth  not  follow  the  Pointing  of  Mr, 
Upton's  Edition  in  this  Place. 

Euphrates  was  a  Philofopher  of  Syria,  whofe  Charafter  is  de- 
fcrlbed,  with  the  higheft  Encomiums,  by  P/iaj,  See  L.  U 
Ep.  X. 


238  fhe  D  i  s  c  0  u  ft  ^  fi  s  6f        Book  III 

would  be  a  Wreftler,  confider  your  Shoulders, 
your  Back,  your  Thighs  :  for  different  Perfons  are 
made  for  different  Things.  Do  you  think,  that 
you  can  ad  as  you  do,  and  be  a  Philofopher  ?  That 
you  c^n  eat  (^;,  and  drink,  and  be  angry,  and  dif- 
contented,  as  you  are  now  ?  You  rnuft  watch  \ 
you  muff  labour;  you  muff  get  the  better  of  cer- 
tain Appetites:  muff  quit  your  Acquaintance; 
be  defpifed  by  your  Servant;  be  laughed  at  by 
thofe  you  meet :  come  off  worfe  than  others,  in 
every  thing ;  in  Magiftracies  \  in  Honours ;  in 
Courts  of  Judicature.  When  you  have  confidered 
all  thefe  Things  round,  approach,  if  you  pleafe :  if, 
by  parting  with  them,  you  have  a  Mind  to  pur- 
chaie  Apathy,  Freedom,  and  Tranquillity.  If  not, 
do  not  come  hither  :  do  not,  like  Children,  be  one 
while  a  Philofopher,  then  a  Pubhcan,  then  an  Ora- 
tor, and  then  one  of  C^jars  Officers.  Thefe  Things 
are  not  confident.  You  muff  be  one  Man,  either 
good  or  bad.  You  muff  cultivate  either  your  own 
ruling  Faculty,  or  Externals;  and  apply  yourfelf 
either  to  Things  within  or  without  you;  that  is, 
be  either  a  Philofopher,  or  one  of  the  Vulgar  (f), 

CHAPTER    XVI. 

7hat  Cattlion  is  necejfary  in  Conde[cenfion  and  Com- 
fiaifance, 

§.  1.  TTE  who  frequently  converfes  with  others, 

JLx  either  in  Difcourfe,  or  Entertainments, 

or  in  any  familiar  Way  of  Living,  muff  neceffarily 

either  become  like  his  Companions,  or  bring  therrf 

over 

{e)  TccvTx  in  this  Place  fiiouM  be  ruvrai. 

(/)  What  is  omitted  at  the  End  of  this  Chapter,  is  placed 
at  the  End  of  the  XVIIth ;  to  which  Lord  Sba/fefiury  thinks 
it  belongs,  or  to  one  of  the  Mifcelianepus  Chapters  j  which  is 
the  more  prob/ible  Opinion. 


Chap.  16.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  239 

over  to  his  own  Way.  For,  if  a  dead  Coal  be  ap^ 
plied  to  a  live  one,  either  the  firft:  will  quench  the 
Jaft,  or  the  lafl  kindle  the  firft.  Since  then,  the 
Danger  is  fo  great, •  Caution  mud  be  ufed  in  enter- 
ing into  thefe  Familiarities  with  the  Vulgar ;  re- 
mennbering,  that  it  is  impofiible  to  touch  a  Chim« 
ney-Sweeper,  without  being  Partaker  of  his  Soot. 
For  what  will  you  do,  if  you  are  to  talk  of  Gladia^ 
tors,  of  Hor(es,  of  Wreftlers,  and  what  is  worfe, 
of  Men  ?  "  Such  a  one  is  good  ;  another,  bad  : 
^'  this  was  well,  that  ill  done."  Befides  :  what  if 
any  one  fhould  fneer,  or  ridicule,  or  be  ill-natured  ? 
Is  any  of  you  prepared,  like  a  Harper ;  who,  when 
he  takes  his  Harp,  and  tries  the  Strings,  finds  out 
which  Notes  are  difcordant,.  and  knows  how  to 
put  the  Inftrument  in  Tune  ?  Hath  any  of  you 
fuch  a  Faculty  as  Socrates  had  ;  who,  in  every  Con- 
verfation,  could  bring  his  Companions  to  his  own 
Purpofe  ?  Whence  Ihould  you  have  it  ?  Yoit 
mull  therefore  be  carried  along  by  the  Vulgar.  And 
why  are  they  more  powerful  than  you }  Becaufe 
they  utter  their  corrupt  Difcourfes,  from  Principle, 
and  you  your  good  ones,  only  from  your  Lips. 
Hence  they  are  v/ithout  Strength,  or  Life  ;  and  it 
would  turn  one's  Stomach  to  hear  your  Exhortati- 
ons, and  poor  mlferable  Virtue,  celebrated  up-hill 
and  down.  Thus  it  is,  that  tiie  Vulgar  get  the 
better  of  you  :  for  Principle  is  always  ftrong,  al- 
ways invincible.  Therefore,  before  thefe  good  Opi- 
nions are  fixed  in  you,  and  you  have  acquired  ibme 
Faculty  for  your  Security,  I  advife  you  to  be  cauti- 
ous, in  your  Familiarity  with  the  Vulgar  :  otherwife, 
if  you  have  any  Imprellions  made  on  you  in  the 
Schools,  they  will  melt  away  daily,  like  Wax  be- 
fore the  Sun.  Get  away  then,  far  from  the  Sun, 
\VhiIe  you  have  thefe  waxen  Opinions. 

§.2.  It  is  for  this  Reafon,  that  the  Phil<ifophers 
advife  us  to  leave  our  Country  ;  becaufe  inveterate 
Manners  draw  the  Mind  afide,  and  prevent  the  Be- 
ginning 


240  ^^e  Discourses  of        Book  III. 

ginning  of  a  new  Habit.  We  cannot  bear  thofe, 
who  meet  us,  to  fay,  '*  Hey-day !  fiich  a  one  is 
"  turned  Philofopher  •,  who  was  fo  and  fo."  Thus 
Phyficians  fend  Patients,  with  lingering  Dif- 
tempers,  to  another  Place,  and  another  Air:  and 
they  do  right.  Do  you  too  import  other  Manners, 
inflead  of  thofe  you  carry  out.  Fix  your  Opinions, 
and  exercife  yourfelves  in  them.  No :  but  from 
hence  to  the  Theatre,  to  the  Gladiators^  to  the 
Walks,  to  the  Circus ;  then  hither  again ;  then  back 
again ;  juft  the  fame  Perfons  ail  the  while.  No  good 
Habit,  no  Attention,  noAnimadverfion,  upon  our- 
felves.  No  Obfervation  what  Ufe  we  m.ake  of  the 
Appearances  prefented  to  our  Minds ;  whether  it  be 
conformable,  or  contrary,  to  Nature  ;  whether  we 
anfwer  them  right,  or  wrong ;  {a)  whether  we  fay 
to  Things  independent  on  Choice,  "  You  are  no- 
*'  thing  to  me."  If  this  be  not  (h)  yet  your  Cafe, 
fly  from  your  former  Habits :  fly  from  the  Vulgar, 
if  you  would  ever  begin  to  be  any  thing. 

CHAPTER    XVII. 

Of  Providence. 

§.  I.  TT7  HEN  EVER  you  lay  any  thing  to 
W  the  Charge  of  Providence,  do  but  re- 
flect ;  and  you  will  find,  that  it  hath  happened  a* 
greeably  to  Reafon. 

Well :  but  a  difhonefl  Man  hath  the  Advan- 
tage. 

In  what  ? 

In  Money. 

Why: 

(a)  The  Tranflation  follows  Mr.  Uptort%  Conjedure,  hu  E» 
eirikiyta.,  Csf f . 

(b)  Ur^iru,  Mr.  UpioTi^  Manufcrlpt. 


Chap.  17.,     E  P  I  C  T  E  TU  S.  241 

Why :  he  is  better  [qualified]  for  it  (c)  than 
you :  becaufe  he  flatters,  he  throws  away  Shame, 
he  keeps  awake  :  and  where  is  the  Wonder  ?  But 
look  whether  he  hath  the  Advantage  of  you  in  Fi- 
delity, or  in  Honour.  You  will  find  he  hath  not : 
but,  that  where-ever  it  is  beft  for  you  to  have  the 
Advantage  of  him,  there  you  have  it.  I  once  faid 
to  one  who  was  full  of  Indignation,  at  the  good 
Fortune  of  Philojiorgus^  *•'  Why  :  would  you  be 
*'  willing  to  fleep  with  Sura  {d)  ?  Heaven  forbid, 
faid  he,  that  Day  fhould  ever  come!— —Why 
then  are  you  argry,  that  he  is  paid  for  what  he  fells : 
or  how  can  you  call  him  happy^  in  PoflefTions  ac- 
quired by  Means,  which  you  deteft  ?  Or  what 
Harm  doth  Providence  do,  in  giving  the  beft 
Things  to  the  befl  Men  ?  Is  it  not  better  to  have  at 
Senfe  of  Honour,  than  to  be  rich  P*—— Granted. 
Why  then  are  you  angry,  Man,  if  you  have 
what  is  befl?  Always  remember  then,  and  have 
it  ready,  That  a  better  Man  hath  the  Advantage 
of  a  worfe,  in  that  Inflance,  in  which  he  is  betterj 
and  you  will  never  have  any  Indignation. 

But  my  Wife  treats  me  ill. 

Well :  if  you  are  afRed,  v/hat  is  the  Matter : 
anfv/er  ;  "  My  Wife  treats  me  ill." 

Nothing  more  ? 

Nothing, 

My  Father  gives  me  nothing. What  is  the 

Matter  ? My  Father  gives  me  nothing.    To 

denominate  this  an  Evil,  lome  external  and  falfe 

(c)  **  But  fometlmes  Virtue  Jlawes,  nvhile  Vice  is  fedJ\ 
What  then  P   Is  the  Renu at d  of  Virtue,  Bread '^ 
That,  Vice  may  merit ;   'tis  the  Price  of  Toil : 

The  Kna've  defer^ves  ity  <vohen  he  tills  the  Soil ; 
The  Kna've  defewes  it,  nvhen  he  tempts  the  Main. 

Eflay  on  Man,  L.  IVi 

(d)  This  Perfon  is  not  known.  One  of  his  Name  is  menti- 
ened  in  the  Aas  of  Ignatius,  as  being  Conlul  at  the  Time, 
when  he  fufFered  Martyrdom. 

R  Addition 


242  The  Di%cov  KB'ES  of        Book  III. 

Addition  mufl  be  made.  We  are  not  therefore  to 
get  rid  of  Poverty  ;  but  of  our  Principle  concerning 
it  i  and  we  fhall  do  well. 

When  Galba  was  killed,  fomebody  faid  to  RufuSy 
*'  Now,  indeed,  the  World  is  governed  by  Provi- 
*'  dence."  I  never  thought,  anfwered  Rufus^  of 
bringing  the  flighteft  Prouf,  that  the  World  was 
governed  by  Providence,  from  Galba. 

CHAPTER    XVIII. 

That  we  ought  not  to  be  alarmed^  by  any  News  that 
is  brought  us. 

§.  I.  \T 7  HEN  any  alarming  News  Is  brought 
\V  you,  always  have  it  at  Hand,  that  no 
News  can  be  brought  you,  concerning  what  is  in 
your  own  Choice.  Can  any  one  bring  you  News, 
that  your  Opinions  or  Defires  are  ill  conducted  ? 
By  no  means  :  but  that  fomebody  is  dead.  W^hat 
i^  that  X.0  you  then  ^  That  fomebody  fpeaks  ill  of 
you.  And  what  is  that  to  you  then  ?  That  your 
Father  is  forming  fome  Contrivance,  or  other.  A- 
gainfl  what }  Againfl  your  Choice  .?  How  can 
he  ?  Well :  but  againfl  your  Body  ;  againft  your 
Eftate  ?  You  are  very  fafe  :  this  is  not  againfl  >'o«. 
But  the  Judge  [perhaps]  hath  pronounced  you 
guilty  of  Impiety.  And  did  not  the  Judges  pro- 
nounce the  lame  of  Socrates  ?  Is  his  pronouncing 
a  Sentence,  any  Bufinefs  of  yours }  No.  Then 
why  do  you,  any  longer,  trouble  yourfelf  about  it } 
There  is  a  Duty  incumbent  on  your  Father;  which, 
unlefs  he  performs,  he  lofes  the  Character  of  a 
Father,  of  natural  AfFedion,  of  Tendernefs.  Do 
not  want  him  to  lofe  any  thing  elfe,  by  this :  for 
no  Perfon  is  ever  guilty  in  one  Inflance, '  and  a  Suf- 
ferer in  another.  Your  Duty,  on  the  other  hand, 
is  to  make  your  Defence,  with  Conftancy,  Mode- 

fty, 


Chap.  ip.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  243 

fly,  and  Mildnefs  :  odierwife  you  lofe  the  Charac- 
ter of  filial  Piety;  of  Modefly,  and  Generofity  of 
Mind.  Well :  and  is  your  Judge  free  from  Dan- 
ger ?  No.  He  runs  an  equal  Hazard.  Why  then, 
are  you  flill  afraid  of  his  Decifion .?  What  have 
you  to  do  with  the  Evil  of  another  ?  Making  a 
bad  Defence  would  be  your  own  Evil.  Let  it  be 
your  only  Care  to  avoid  that  :  but  whether  Sen- 
tence is  paffed  on  you,  or  not,  as  it  is  the  Bufmefs, 
fo  it  is  the  Evil,  of  another.     *'  Such  a  one  threa- 

"  tens   you."- AU?     No. ''   He  cenfures 

''  you." Let  him  look  to  it,  how  he  doth  his 

own  Bufmefs ''  He  will  give  an  uniufl  Sentence 

againfl  you. Poor  Wretch  ! 

CHAP  T  E  R    XIX. 

What  is  the  Condition  of  the  Vulgar  ;  and  what  of  a 
Philofcpher, 

§.  I .  'T"'  H  E  firfl  Difference  between  one  of  the 
A  Vulgar,  and  a  Philofopher,  is  this  :  the 
one  fays,  I  am  undone,  on  the  Account  of  my 
Child,  my  Brother,  my  Father :  but  the  other,  if 
ever  he  be  obliged  to  fay,  I  am  undone  !  refleds, 
and  adds,  on  Account  of  myfelf  For  Choice  can- 
not be  reflrained,  or  hurt,  by  any  thing  to  which 
Choice  doth  not  extend ;  but  only  by  itfelf.  If 
therefore  we  always  would  incline  this  Way,  and, 
whenever  we  are  unfuccefsful,  would  lay  the  Fault 
on  ourielves,  and  remember,  that  there  is  no  Caufe 
of  Perturbation  and  Inconftancy,  but  Principle,  I 
engage  we  fhould  make  fome  Proficiency.  But  v/e 
fet  out  in  a  very  different  Way,  from  the  very  Be- 
ginning. In  Infancy,  for  Example,  if  we  happen 
to  flumble,  our  Nurfe  doth  not  chide  wj,  but  beats 
the  Stone.  Why :  what  Harm  hath  the  Stone 
done  ?  Was  it  to  move  out  of  its  Place,  for  the 
R  z  Folly 


244  ^^^   Discourses  e?/        Book  IH. 

Folly  of  your  Child  ?  Again  :  if  we  do  not  find 
fomething  to  eat,  when  we  come  out  of  the  Bath, 
our  Governor  doth  not  try  to  moderate  our  Appe- 
tite, but  beats  the  Cook.  Why  :  did  we  appoint 
you  Governor  of  the  Cook,  Man  ?  No :  but  of 
our  Child.  It  is  he  whom  you  are  to  corredt  and ' 
improve.  By  thefe  Means,  even  when  we  are 
grown  up,  we  appear  Children.  For  an  unmufical 
Perfon  is  a  Child  in  Mufic  ;  an  illiterate  Perfon,  a 
Child  in  Learning  j  and  an  untaught  one,  a  Child 
in  Life. 

CHAPTER    XX. 

^bat  fome  Advantage  may  he  gained^  from  every  ex- 
ternal Circumftance. 

§.  I.  T  N  Appearances  that  are  merely  Objeds  of 
X  Contemplation,  almoft  all  Perfon s  have  al- 
lowed Good  and  Evil  to  be  in  ourfelves,  and  not  in 
Externals.  No  one  fays,  it  is  good,  to  be  Day  ; 
evil,  to  be  Nighty  and  the  greatefl  Evil,  that 
Three  fhould  be  Four :  but  what  ?  That  Know- 
lege  is  good,  and  Error  evil.  So  that,  concerning 
Falfhood  itfelf,  there  exifls  one  (a)  good  Thing ; 
the  Knowledge,  that  it  is  Falfhood.  Thus  then, 
iTiould  it  be,  in  Life  alfo.  Health  is  a  Good  ;  Sick- 
nefs,  an  Evil.  No,  Sir.  But  what  ?  ArightUfe 
of  Health  is  a  Good  j  a  v/rong  one,  an  Evil.  So 
that,  in  truth,  it  is  polTible  to  be  a  Gainer,  even  by 
Sickneis.  And  is  it  not  poflible,  by  Death  too  ^ 
By  Mutilation  I  Do  you  think  {b)  Men^ceus  an  in- 
confiderable  Gainer  by  Death  ? "  May  who- 


(a)  The  PafTage,  as  it  now  {lands  in  the  Greeky  is  fcarcely 
intelligible  The  Difficulty  is  removed,  by  reading  ayaOov  for 
uircc-rnv^  and  the  Tranflation  follows  this  Conje6ture. 

(b)  The  Son  ofCreon,  who  killed  himfelf,  after  he  had  been 
informed,  by  an  Oracle,  that  his  Death  would  procure  a  Vic- 
tory to  the  T^'^^w,    Apolloporus.     Upton. 


Chap.  20.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  245 

*'  ever  talks  thus,  be  fuch  a  Gainer  as  he  was !" — > 
Why  :  pray.  Sir,  did  not  he  preferve  his  Patriotifm, 
his   Magnanimity,  his  Fidelity,  his  gallant  Spirit  ? 
And,  if  he  had  lived  on,  would  he  not  have  loll  all 
thefe  ?     Would  not  Cowardice,  Mean-fpiritednefs, 
-and  Hatred  of  his  Country,  and  a  wretched  Love  of 
Life,  have  been  his  Portion  ?    Well,  now  :  do  not 
you  think  him  a  confiderable  Gainer,  by   dying? 
No  :  but  I  warrant  you,  ( c)  the  Father  of  Admetus 
was  a  great  Gainer,  by  living  on,  in  fo  mean-fpirited 
and  wretched  a  Way,  as  he  did !    Why :  did  n6t 
he  die  at   lad  ?     For  Heaven's  fake,  ceafe  to  be 
thus  flruck,  by  the  mere  Materials,  [of  Adion.] 
Ceafe  to  make  yourfelves  Slaves  *,  firft  of  Things, 
and   then,  upon  their  Account ;  of  the  Men  who 
have  the  Power,  either   to  beflow,  or  take  them 
away.     Is  there  any  Advantage  then  to  be  gained 
from  thefe  Men  ^     From  all  ^  even  from  a  Reviler. 
What  Advantage  doth  a  Wrefller  gain  from  him, 
with  whom  he  exercifes  himfelf,  before  the  Com- 
bat :  the  greateft.    Why :  jufl  in  the  fame  manner  I 
exercifcmyfelfwith  this  Man.  (d]  Heexercifes  me  in 
Patience,  in  Gentlenefs,  in  Meeknefs.  No :  but,  I  fup- 
pofe,  I  gain  an  Advantage  from  him  who  manages 
my  Neck,  and  fets  my  Back  and  Shoulders  in  or- 
der ;  and  the  befl  Thing  a  Mailer  of  Exercife  can 
fay,  is,  "  Lift  him  up  with  both  Hands,"  and  the 
heavier  he  is,   the  greater  is  my  Advantage :  and 
yet,  it  is  no  Advantage  to  me,  when  I  am  exer- 
cifed  in  Gentlenefs  of  Temper  !    This  is  not  know- 
ing, how  to  gain  an  Advantage  from  Men.     Is  my 
Neighbour  a  bad  one  ^     He  is  fo,  to  himfelf;   but 
a  good  one,  to  me.     He  exercifes  my  good  Tem- 
per, my  Moderation.     Is  my  Father  bad  ^     To 
himfelf;  but  not  to  me.     "  This  is   the  Rod  of 
*^  Hermes.     Touch  with   it  whatever  you  pleafe, 
R  3  and 

(c)  See  p.  177:  Note/7. 

(d)  *Ov70<;  for  *0VTUi.      WOLFIUS, 


ft46  ^^^  Discourses  of  Book  III. 
"  and  it  wiil  become  Gold.'*  No :  but  bring, what- 
ever you  f  leafe,  and  I  will  turn  it  into  Good.  Bring 
Sicknels,  Death,  Want,  Reproach,  capital  Trial. 
All  thefe,  by  the  Ko6.oi  Her  me  s^  (hall  turn  to  Ad- 
vantage.—— "  What  will  you  make  of  Death  ?" — ■ 
W' hy  :  what  but  an  Ornament  to  you^  what  but  a 
Means  of  your  fhowing,  by  (/)  Adnon,  what  the 
Man  is,  who  knows,  and  follows  the  Will  of  Na- 
ture     '^  What  will  you  make  of  Sicknefs  ?" 

I  will  {how  its  Nature.  I  will  make  a  good  Figure 
in  it ;  I  will  be  compofed  and  happy.  I  will  not 
flatter  my  Phyfician.  I  will  not  with  to  die.  What 
need  you  aik  further  ?  Whatever  you  give  me,  I 
will  make  it  happy,  fortunate,  refpedtable,  and  eli- 
gible.    No. '■''  But,  take  care  not  to  be  fick." 

Juft  as  if  one  fhould  fay,  '^  Take  care,  that  the 
*'  Appearance  of  Three  being  Four,  doth  not  pre- 
"  fent  itfelf  to  you."  "  It  is  an  Evil."  How  an 
Evil,  Man  .f*  If  i  think  as  i  ought  about  it,  what 
Hurt  will  it  any  longer  do  me }  Will  it  not  rather 
be  even  an  Advantage  to  me  ?  If  then  I  think  as 
I  ought,  of  Poverty,  of  Sicknefs,  of  being  out  of 
Power,  is  not  that  enough  for  me  ?  Why  then 
mufl  I  any  longer  feek  Good  or  Evil,  in  Externals  ? 
But  what'is  the  State  of  the  Cafe  }  Thefe  Things 
are  allowed  here  ;  but  nobody  carries  them  home ; 
but  immediately  every  one  is  in  a  State  of  War  with 
his  Servant,  his  Neighbours,  with  thofe  who  fneer 
and  ridicule  him.  Well  fare  (f)  Le]hms^  for  prov- 
ing every  Day,  that  I  know  nothing. 

(e)  For  5£i|*j  a  s^ya,  ^5;|*ic  s^yco  feems  the  true  Reading. 
(/)  Mr.  Upion  conjectures   this  Lefitus  to  have  been  fome 
Buffoon. 


CHAP- 


'  Chap,  21.      E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  247 

CHAPTER    XXr. 

Corxerning  thofe  Vjho  readily  fet  up  for  Sophifls. 

§.  I.  Wnp  HEY  who  have  received  bare  Propo- 
JL  fitions,  are  prefently  inclined  to  throw 
them  up,  as  a  lick  Stomach  doth  its  Food.  Firft 
concodt  it,  and  then  you  will  not  throw  it  up  ;  other- 
wife  it  will  be  crude  and  impure,  and  unfit  for 
Nourifhment.  But  fhow  us,  from  what  you  have 
digefled,  fome  Change  in  your  ruling  Faculty ;  as 
Wrefllers  do  in  their  Shoulders,  from  their  Exer- 
cife,  and  their  Diet :  as  Artificers,  in  their  Skill, 
from  what  they  have  learnt.  A  Carpenter  doth 
not  come  and  fay,  "  Hear  me  difcourfe  on 
"  the  Art  of  Building :"  but  he  hires  a  Houfc,  and 
fits  it  up,  and  fhows  himfelf  Mafter  of  his  Trade. 
Let  it  be  your  Bufmefs  likewife  to  do  fomething 
hke  this:  eat  hke  a  Man;  drink,  drefs,  marry, 
have  Children,  perform  the  Duty  of  a  Citizen ; 
bear  Reproach ;  bear  with  an  unreafbnable  Brother ; 
bear  with  a  Father ;  bear  with  a  Son,  a  Neighbour, 
a  Companion  •,  as  becomes  a  Man.  Show  us  thefe 
Things,  that  we  may  fee  that  you  have  really  learnt 
fomewhat,  from  the  Philofophers.  No :  "  But 
''  come  and  hear  me  repeat  Commentaries.'*  Get 
you  gone,  and  feek  fomebody  elfe,  to  throw  them 
R  4  out 

(a)  The   Tranflatlon  follows   the    Conjedlure  of  Wolfus^ 

There  are  other  Difficulties  in  the  Text,  as  it  now  Hands. 
E|£ftE(7»j?,  perhaps,  fliould  be  eIe/xhctek;  or,  probably,  there 
fhould  be  no  /x>j  before  i^t[iriav^ ;  and  then  the  Meaning  of  Epic- 
t€tus  will  be.  That  the  Perlbns  whom  he  is  fpeaking  of,  ought 
firft  to  concoft  Propofitions  for  their  own  Ufe,  and  then 
throw  them  up  (i.  e.  utter  them  in  Difcourfe),  for  the  Ufe  of- 
others.  But  the  Figure  he  makes  ufe  ot  is  fo  dirty,  that  it  is  not 
to  be  enlarged  upon,  though  taken  from  the  Pradicc  of  the 
Grefk  and  Roman  Ph/ficians. 


24^  The  Discourses  of         Book IIL 

out  upon.  *'  Nay,  but  I  will  explain  the  Dodlrines 
*'  of  Chryfippus  to  you,  fo  as  no  other  Perfon  can  : 
''  I  will  elucidate  his  Didion,  in  the  clearell  Man- 
*'  ner."  And  is  it  for  this  then,  that  young  Men 
leave  their  Country,  and  their  own  Parents,  that 
they  may  come  and  hear  you  explain  fPordsF 
Ought  they  not  to  return  patient,  adive,  free  from 
Pafiion,  free  from  Perturbation  •,  furniflied  with 
fuch  a  Provifion  for  Life,  that,  fetting-out  with  it, 
they  will  be  able  to  bear  all  Events  well,  and  de- 
rive Ornament  from  them  ?  But  how  fhould  you 
impart  what  you  have  not?  For  have  you  your- 
felf  done  any  Thing  ehe,  from  the  Beginning,  but 
fpent  your  Time  in  folving  Syllogifms,  and  conver- 
tible Proportions,  and  interrogatory  Arguments. 

"  But  fuch   a  one  hath  a  School,  and  why 

fhould  not  I  have  one  ?" Wretch,  thefe  Things 

are  not  effeded,  in  a  carelefs  and  fortuitous  Man- 
ner. But  there  muft  be  Age,  and  a  Method  of 
Life,  and  a" guiding  God.  Is  it  not  fo?  No  one 
quits  the  Port,  or  fets  Sail,  till  he  hath  facrificed 
to  the  Gods,  and  implored  their  Affiflance :  nor  do 
Men  fow,  v/ithout  firfh  invoking  Ceres.  And  Ihall 
any  one  who  hath  undertaken  fo  great  a  Work, 
undertake  it  fafely,  without  the  Gods  ?  And  fhall 
they,  v/ho  apply  to  fvich  a  one,  apply  to  him  with 
Succefs  ?  What  are  you  doing  elfe,  Man,  but  di- 
vulging the  Myfleries  ?  And  you  fay,  "  There  is 
"  a  Temple  at  Eleiifis  \  and  here  is  one  too.  T.herc' 
"  is  a  [h)  Prieft  ;  and  /  will  make  a  Prieft  here  : 
'^  there  is  a  Herald  ;  and  /  will  appoint  a  Herald 
**  too  :  there  is  a  Torch-bearer  \  and  /  will  have  a 

"  Torch- 

(h)  The  Priefi:  who  prefided  over  the  Eleujinian  Myfteries 
was  called  Uieropbantes ;  i.  e.  a  Revealer  of  iacred  Things.  He 
was  obliged  to  devote  hlmfelf  to  divine  Service,  and  lead  a 
chafte  and  fmgle  Life.  He  was  attended  by  three  Officers  ;  a 
Torch  bearer,  a  Herald,  and  One  who  aiUfted  at  the  Altar. 
For  a  fuller  Account  of  the  Eleujinian  Myfteries,  fee  Potter's 
G;va«a  Antiquities,  Vol.  i.  c  20. 


Chap.  21.      E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  1J49 

*'  Torch-bearer :  there  are  Torches  ;  and  fo  fhall 
"  there  be  here.  The  Words  faid,  the  Things 
*'  done,  are  the  fame.  Where  is  the  Difference 
*'  betwixt  one  and  the  other?"  Mod  impious 
Man !  is  there  no  Difference  ?  Are  thefe  Things 
of  Ufe  out  of  Place,  and  out  of  Time  ?  A  man 
fhould  come  with  Sacrifices  and  Prayers,  previouf- 
ly  purified,  and  his  Mind  afFeded  with  a  Senfe, 
that  he  is  approaching  to  facred  and  ancient  Rites. 
Thus  the  Myfleries  become  ufeful:  thus  we  come 
to  have  an  Idea,  that  all  thefe  Things  were  ap- 
pointed by  the  Ancients,  for  the  InflrucHon  and 
Corredion  of  Life.  But  you  divulge  and  publilTi 
them,  without  Regard  to  Time  and  Place;  with- 
out Sacrifices,  without  Purity :  you  have  not  the 
Garment  that  is  neceffary  for  a  Prieft,  nor  the  Hair, 
or  the  Girdle  (f),  that  is  neceffary  ;  nor  the  Voice, 
nor  the  Age :  nor  have  you  purified  yourfelf,  like 
him.  But,  when  you  have  got  the  Words  by 
Heart,  you  fay,  ''  The  Words  are  facred  of  them- 
*'  felves.*'  Thefe  Things  are  to  be  approached,  in 
another  Manner.  It  is  a  great,  it  is  a  myflical  Af- 
fair ;  not  given  by  Chance,  or  to  every  one  indif- 
ferently. Nay,  mere  AVifdom,  perhaps,  is  not  a 
fufficient  Qualification  for  the  Care  of  Youth  There 
ought  to  be  likewife  a  certain  Readinefs  and  Aptir 
tude  for  this,  and  indeed  a  particular  Conflitution 
of  Body ;  and,  above  all,  a  Counfel  from  God  to 
undertake  this  Office,  as  he  coun felled  Socrates  to 
undertake  the  Office  of  Confatation  ;  Diogenes^  that 
of  authoritative  Reproof ;  TLeno^  that  of  dogmatical 
Inflrudion.  But  you  fet  up  for  a  Phyfician,  pro- 
vided with  nothing  but  Medicines,  and  without 
knowing,  or  having  lludied,  where,  or  how,  they 
are  to  be  applied.  "  Why  :  fuch  a  one  had  Me- 
"  dicines  for  the  Eyes;    and  1  have  the  fame." 

Have 

(c)  The  Girdle  is  mentioned  among  the  holy  Garments  of 
the  Levitical  Priefts.    Exod.  xxviii,  4.  39,  40,  i^c 


250  ne  Discourses^/        Book  III. 

Have  you  then,  a  Faculty  too  of  making  ufe  of 
them  ?  Do  you,  at  all,  know  when,  and  how,  and 
to  whom,  they  will  be  of  Service?  Why  then  do 
you  a6t  at  Hazard  ?  Why  are  you  carelefs,  in 
Things  of  the  greatefl  Importance  ?  Why  do  you 
attempt  a  Matter  unfuitable  to  you  ?  Leave  It  to 
thofe  who  can  perform  it,  and  do  it  Honour.  Do 
not  you  too  bring  a  Scandal  upon  Philofbphy,  by 
your  Means ;  nor  be  one  of  thofe,  who  caufe  the 
Thing  itfelf  to  be  calumniated.  But,  if  Theorems 
delight  you,  fit  quiet,  and  turn  them  every  Way 
by  yourfelf ;  but  never  call  yourfelf  a  Philofopher  ^ 
nor  fuffer  another  to  call  you  fo  ;  but  fay,  "  He  is 
*'  miftaken  :  for  my  Defires  are  not  different  from 
"  what  they  were ;  nor  my  Purfuits  directed  to  o- 
"  ther  Objeds;  nor  my  Aflent  otherwife  given  ;  nor 
"  have  1  at  all  made  any  Change  in  the  Ufe  of  the 
*'  Appearances,  from  my  former  Condition.'* 
Think  and  fpeak  thus  of  yourfelf,  if  you  would 
think  as  you  ought  :  if  not,  ad  at  all  Hazards,  and 
do  as  you  do  -,  for  it  becomes  you. 

CHAPTER    XXII. 

Of  the  Cynic  Philofophy  {a), 

§.  r.  \T  7  HEN  one  of  his  Scholars,  v/ho  feemed 
W  inclined  to  the  Cynic  Philofophy,  a(ked 
him,  what  a  Cynic  mud  be,  and  what  was  the  gene- 
ral Pkn  of  that  Sed  ?  Let  us  examine  it,  fays  he,  at 
our  Leifure.     But  thus  much  I  can  tell  you  now, 

that 

{a)  The  Cynics  owed  their  Original  to  Jntijlhencsy  a  Difci- 
ple  of  Socrates.  They  held  Virtue  to  be  the  higheft  Good,  and 
the  End  of  Life  -,  and  treated  Riches,  Honours,  and  Power, 
with  great  Contempt.  They  were  Enemies  to  Science,  and  po- 
lite Literature;  and  applied  themfeives  wholly  to  the  Study  of 
Morality.  There  was,  in  many  Refpefts,  great  Conformity 
between  them  and  the  Stoics :  but  the  Stoics  feleded  what 
feemed  laudable,  in  their  Principles,  without  imitating  the  Rough- 

nefs 


Chap.  22.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  251 

that  he  who  (b)  attempts  (6  great  an  Affair  with- 
out God,  is  an  Objedl  of  divine  Wrath,  and  would 
only  bring  public  Dilhonour  upon  himfelf.  For» 
in  a  well  regulated  Houfe,  no  one  comes,  and  fays 
to  himfelf,  "  I  ought  to  be  the  Manager  here."  If 
he  doth,  and  the  Mafler  (c)  returns,  and  fees  him 
infolently  giving  Orders,  he  drags  him  out,  and 
hath  him  whipt.  Such  is  the  Cafe  likewife  in  this 
great  City  [of  the  World.]  For  here  too  is  a  Ma- 
fter  of  the  Family,  who  orders  every  thing.  ''  Tou 
*'  are  the  Sun :  you  can,  by  making  a  Circuit,  form 
"  the  Year,  and  the  Seafons,  and  increafe  and  nou- 
*'  rifh  the  Fruits ;  raife  and  calm  the  Winds,  and 
"  give  a  moderate  Warmth  to  the  Bodies  of  Men. 
"  Go :  make  your  Circuit,  -and  thus  intimately 
"  move  every  thing,  from  the  greatell  to  the  leaft. 
"  Tou  are  a  Calf :  when  the  Lion  appears,  do  your 
"  (d)  Part,  or  you  will  fi^iffer  for  it.  2^cu  are  a 
"  Bull :  come  and  fight ;  for  that  is  incumbent 
"  on  yoUy  and  becomes  you,  and  you  can  do  it. 
'^  Tou  can  lead  an  Army  to  Troy :  be  you  Jga- 
"  memnon.  You  can  engage  in  fmgle  Combat  with 
"  He^or  :  ht  ^qm  Achilles:'     But,  \i1herfites  had 

come 

nefs  of  their  Addrefs,  and  the  deteftable  Indecency  of  their 
external  Behaviour,  The  Stoics  were  indeed  a  reformed  Branch 
of  the  Cynics,  and  thence,  perhaps,  fpoke  of  them  fomevvhat 
more  favourably,  than  they  might  otherwife  have  done.  The 
Cynics  are  faid  to  have  derived  their  Name  from  Cynofargesy  a 
Gymnajium^  without  the  Walls  oi  Athens^  where  Antfjihenes 
taught ;  and  which  was  fo  called  from  the  Accident  of  a  white 
Dog  Healing  Part  of  a  Vi£lim,  which  Diomus  was  facrificing  to 
Hercules :  and  their  barking  at  every  body,  and  their  Want  of 
Shame,  helped  to  confirm  the  Appellation.  \n  thio  Cynofarges 
was  a  celebrated  Temple  of  Hercules  ;  which,  very  poifibly, 
gave  the  Cynics  the  original  Hir^t  of  comparing  themfelves  to 
that  Hero;  which  they  fo  much  affeded. 

(h)  And  no  Man  taketh  this  Honour  unto  himfelf y  but  he  that  is 
called  of  God. Heb.  v.  4. 

(c)  This  hath  a  remarkable  Likenefs  to  Matth.  xxiv.  50,  51, 
cTpecially  in  the  Originals. 

{d)  L  e.  run  away. 


252  The  Discourses  of       Book  111. 

come  and  claimed  the  Command,  either  he  would 
not  have  obtained  it  *,  or,  if  he  had,  he  would  have 
difgraced  himfelf,  before  the  more  Witneffes. 

§.2.  l^o  you  too,  carefully  deliberate  upoft  this 
Matter  :  it  is  not  what  you  think  it.     "  1  wear  ah 
•'  old  Cloke  now  -,  and  I  fhall  have  one  then.     I 
"  fleep  upon  the  hard  Ground  now  ;  and  I  ihall 
*'  fleep  fo  then.     I  will  moreover  take  a  Wallet 
"  and  a  Staff,  and  go  about,  and  will  beg  of  thofe 
*'  I  meet,  and  begin  by  {e)  abufmg  them :  and,  if 
*'  I  fee  any  one  ufing  Means  to  take  off  the  Hair 
*'  from  his  Face,  or  Body  ;  or  fetting  his  Curls,  or 
"  walking  in  Purple,  I  will  rebuke  him."     If  you 
imagine  this  to  be  the  Thing,  avaurit;  come  not 
near  it :    it  doth  not  belong  to  you.     But,  if  you 
imagine  it  to  be  what  it  really  is,  and  do  not  think 
yourfelf  unworthy  of  it,  confider  how  great  a  thing 
you  undertake.    Firft,  with  regard  to  yourfelf :  you 
mufl  no  longer,  in  any  Inflance,  appear  like  what 
you  do  now.     You  mufl  accufe  neither  God  nor 
Man.     You  mufl  totally  fupprefs  Defire  ;  and  mufl 
transfer  Averfion  to  fuch  Things  only  as  are  depen- 
dent on  Choice.     You  mufl  have  neither  Anger, 
nor  Refentment,    nor  Envy,   nor  Pity.     Neither 
Boy,  nor  Girl,  nor  Fame,  nor  Delicacies  in  Eat- 
ing, muft  have   Charms  for  you.     For  you  mufl 
know,  that  other  Men  indeed  fence  themfelves  with 
Walls,  and  Houfes,  and  Darknefs,  when  they  do 
any  thing  of  this  kind,  and  have'  many  Conceal- 
ments :  a   Mali  fhuts  the  Door,  places  fomebody 
before  the  Apartment ;    "  Say,  He  is  gone  out ; 
"  fay.   He  is  not  at  I^ifure."     But  the  Cynic,  in- 
Head  of  all  this,  mufl  fence  himfelf  with  virtuous 
Shame ;  otherv/ife  He   will  afl  mdecently,  naked, 
and  in  the  open  Air.     This  is  his  Houfe  ;  this,  his 
Door  ;    this,  his  Porter  •,  this,  his  Darknefs.     He 
mufl  not  wifh  to  conceal  any  thing  relating  to  him- 
felf: 

(f)  For  ^koj^bpsiv  read  havh^uv,    Uptoi*; 


Chap.  22.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  353 

felf :  for,  if  he  doth,  he  is  gone  ;  he  hath  loft  the 
Cynic;  the  open,  the  free  Character:  he  hath  be- 
gun to  fear  fomething  external :  he  hath  begun  to 
need  a  Concealment ;  nor  can  he  get  it  when  he 
will.  For  where  fhall  he  conceal  himfelf,  or  how  ? 
For  if  this  Tutor,  this  Pedagogue  of  the  Public, 
fhould  happen  to  flip,  what  muft  he  fuffer  ?  Can 
he  then,  who  dreads  thefe  Things,  be  thoroughly 
bold  within,  and  prefcribe  to  other  Men  ?  Im-« 
pradticable;  impoffible. 

§.3.  In  the  firft  place  then,  you  muft  purify 
your  own  ruling  Faculty,  conformably  (f)  to  this 
Method  of  Life.  Now  the  Subjed-matter  for  me 
to  work  upon,  is  my  own  Mind  ;  as  Wood  is  for  a 
Carpenter,  or  Leather  for  a  Shoemaker :  and  my 
Bufinefs  is,  a  right  Ufe  of  the  Appearances  of 
Things.  But  Body  is  nothing  to  me  •,  its  Parts  no- 
thing to  me.  Let  Death  come  when  it  will  \,  either 
of  the  Whole,  or  of  a  Part.  "  Go  into  Exile.''  And 
whither  }  Can  any  one  turn  me  out  of  the  World  ? 
He  cannot.  But  where-ever  I  go,  there  is  the  Sun, 
the  Moon,  the  Stars,  Dreams,  Auguries,  Commu- 
nication with  God.  And  even  this  Preparation  is^ 
by  no  means,  fiifficient  for  a  true  Cynic.  But  it 
muft  farther  be  known,  that  he  is  a  Meflenger 
fent  from  Jupiter  to  Men,  concerning  Good  and 
Evil  •,  to  ftiow  them,  that  they  are  miftaken,  and 
feek  the  EfTence  of  Good  and  Evil  where  it  is  not ; 
but  do  not  obferve  it  where  it  is :  that  He  is  a  Spy, 
like  Diogenes,  when  he  was  brought  to  Philip,  after 
the  Battle  o^Charonea  {g).  For,  in  efted,  a  Cynic 
is  a  Spy,  to  difcover  what  Things  are  friendly,  what 
hoftile,  to  Man:  and  he  muft,  after  making  an 
accurate  Obfervation,  come  and  tell  them  the 
Truth :  not  be  ftruck  with  Terror,  fo  as  to  point 

out 

(/)  The  Senfe  feems  to  require,  that  x«t  Ihould  be  Kara ;  and 
it  is  (6  tranflated. 
^^;  See  P.  69.  Note(f). 


254  ^^^  Discourses  of        Book  III. 

but  to  them  Enemies,  where  there  are  none  ;  nor, 
in  any  other  Inflance,  difconcerted  or  confounded 
by  Appearances. 

§.4.  He  muft  then,  ifitfhould  fo  happen,  be 
able  to  lift  up  his  Voice,  come  upon  the  Stage,  and 
fay,  like  Socrates^  ''  O  Mortak,  whither  are  you 
*'  hurrying  ?  What  are  you  about  ?  Why  do  you 
*^  tumble  up  and  down,  Wretches,  like  blind 
*'  Men  ?  You  are  going  a  wrong  Way,  and  have 
*'  forfaken  the  right.  You  feek  Profperity  and 
«'  (h)  Happinefs  in  a  wrong  Place,  where  it  is  not ; 
*'  nor  do  you  give  Credit  to  another,  who  (hows 
**  you  where  it  is.  W  liy  do  you  feek  it  without  ? 
"It  is  not  in  Body:  if  you  do  not  believe  me, 
*'  look  upon  (/.)  Myro ;  look  upon  Ofellius.  It  is 
*^-  not  in  Wealth  :  if  you  do  not  believe  me,  look 
**  upon  Crosfus ;  look  upon  the  Rich  of  the  prefent 
*^  Age,  how  full  of  Lamentation  their  Life  is.  It 
**  is  not  in  Power :  for,  other  wife,  they,  who  have 
*'  been  twice  and  thrice  Confuls,  muft  be  happy  ; 
*'  but  they  are  not.  To  whom  (hall  we  give  Cre- 
*'  dit  in  this  Affair .?  To  you  who  look  only  upon 
*^  the  Externals  of  their  Condition,  and  are  dazled 
*'  by  Appearances,  or  to  themfelves  ?  What  do 
*'  they  fay  ?  Hear  them,  when  they  groan,  when 
"  they  figh,  when  they  think  themfelves  more 
*'  wretched,  and  in  more  Danger,  from  thefe  very 
*'  Confulfhips,  this  Glory,  and  Splendor.  It  is  not 
*'  in  Empire:  otherwife  iVc'^^^and/S^r^^^/^/^^/a^had 
**  been  happy.  But  not  even  Agamemnon  was  hap- 
*^  py,  though  a  better  Man  than  SardanapaluSy  or 
*'  Nero.  But,  when  others  are  fnoring,  what  is 
"  He  doing  r 

He  rends  his  Hairs 

And  what  doth  he  fay  himfelf  ? 

Scarce 

{h)  The  Tranflatlon  follows  Lord  Shaftejburfs  Conjeaure. 
(i)  Unknown  Perfcn?,  probably  c^f  great  bodily  SuengUi. 


Chap.  32.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  255 

Scarce  can  my  Knees  thefe  trembling  Limbs  fuftain ; 
And/carce  my  Heart  fupprt  its  Load  of  Pain. 

Pope. 

Why :  which  of  your  Affairs  goes  ill,  poor 
Wretch?  Your  Poflefllons?  No.  Your  Body  ? 
No.  But  you  have  Gold  and  Brafs  in  Abundance, 
What  then  goes  ill }  That  Part  of  you,  whatever 
it  be  called,  is  negledled  and  corrupted,  by  which 
we  defire,  and  are  averfe ;  by  which  we  purfue, 
and  avoid. How  negleded  } It  is  igno- 
rant of  that  for  which  it  was  naturally  formed,  of 
the  Elfence  of  Good,  and  of  the  Effence  of  Evil. 
It  is  ignorant  what  is  its  own,  and  what  another's. 
And,  when  any  thing  belonging  to  others  goes  ill 
it  fays,  "  I  am  undone  ;  the  Greeks  are  in  danger !" 
(Poor  ruling  Faculty  !  which  alone  is  negleded,  and 
hath  no  Care  taken  of  it.)     ''  They  will  die  by  the 

"  Sword  of  the  l^rojans  r And,  if  the  Trojans 

ftiould  not  kill  them,  vi^ill  they  not  die  .? — "  Yes  : 

*'  but  not  all  at  once." Why :  where  is  the 

Difference  .?  For,  if  it  be  an  Evil  to  die,  whether 
it  be  all  at  once,  or  fmgly,  it  is  equally  an  Evil. 
Will  any  thing  more  happen,  than  the  Separation 

of  Soul   and  Body  {k)  ? "  Nothing  " And, 

when  the  Greeks  perifli,  is  the  Door  fhut  againil 

you  ?     Is  it  not   in  your  own  Power  to  die  ^ 

**  It  is." Why  then  do  you  lament,  while  you 

are  a  King,  and  hold  the  Sceptre  of  Jove  ?  A  King 
is  no  more  to  be  made  unfortunate  than  a  God. 
What  are  you  then .?  You  are  a  Shepherd  CO,  truly 
fo  called  :  for  you  weep,  juft  as  Shepherds  do, 

when 

(k)  Were  Conquerors  deeply  to  confider,  how  much  more 
happens  than  the  mere  Separation  of  Soul  and  Body,  they 
would  not,  for  Increafe  of  Dominion,  or  a  Point  of  falfe  Ho- 
nour, pufli  Thoufands  at  once  into  an  unknown  Eternity. 

(I)  We  find  this  Phrafe  often  ufed  by  the  infpired  Writers, 
to  defcribe  the  Office  and  Duty  of  a  King,  or  Ruler.  And  the 
5noft.  tender  and  affe^ionate  Corapaifion  u  implied  in  It,  l/ahb 


256  The  Discourses  of        Book  III. 

when  the  Wolf  feizes  any  of  their  Sheep:  and 
they  who  are  governed  by  you  are  mere  Sheep. 
But  why  did  you  come  hither  ?  Was  your  Defire 
in  any  Danger  ?  Your  Averfion  ?  Your  Purfiiits  ? 
Your   Avoidances  ?    ''  No,"  fays  he  :    ''  but  my 

*'  Brother's  Wife  hath  been  flolen.*'- Is  it  not 

great  good  Luck  then,  to  be  rid  of  a  forry  adul- 
terous Wife  ?-- — "  But  mufl  we  be  held  in  Con- 

"  tempt    by   xh^  Trojans T' What   are  they? 

Wile  Men,  or  Fools  ?  If  wife,  why  do  you  go 
to  war  with  them  ?  If  Fools,  why  do  you  mind 
them  ? 

§.  5.  Where  then   doth  our  Good  li^,  fince  it 
doth  not   lie  in  thefe  Things  ?     Tell  us.  Sir  •,  you 

who  are  our  MefTenger  and  Spy. Where  you  do 

not  think,  nor  are  willing  to  feek  it.  For,  if  you 
were  willing,  you  would  find  it  in  yourfelves  :  nor 
would  you  wander  abroad,  nor  feek  what  belongs 
to  others,  as  your  own.  Turn  your  Thoughts  into 
yourfelves.     Confider  the   Pre-conceptions  which 

you  have.     What  do  you  imagine  Good  to  be } 

What  is  profperous,  happy,  unhindered. Well : 

and  do  not  you  naturally  imagine  it  great }  Do  not 
you  imagine  it  valuable  }  Do  not  you  imagine  it  in- 
capable of  being  hurt  .^  In  what  Materials  then  muft 
you  feek  Profperity,  andExemption  from  Hindrance  ? 

In 

xl.  II.  where  \t  is  faid  of  the  King  of  Kmgz^  Be  Jhall  feed 
his  Flock t  like  a  Shepherd:  Be  Jhall  gather  the  Lambs  ivtth  his 
Arnii  and  carry  them  inhisBofom  ;  and  Jhall  getitly  lead  thofe  that 
are  cwith young.  He  accordingly  applies  this  diftinguifliing  Cha- 
rader  to  himl'elf,  in  feveral  Places  of  the  NewTeftamentj  ef- 
pecially  John  x.ii.  14,  15,  16. 

Bomer  fpeaks  of  /Agamemnon  by  this  Name  (which  we  fee  was 
not  unufual  in  theEalt)  to  exprefs  his  Authority  and  Care:  but 
Epiaetus  applies  it  as  a  Term  of  Reproach,  to  imply  Ignorance, 
and  Meannefs  of  Spirit.  One  cannot  help  obferving,  on  what  is 
here  faid  of  Agamemnon^  the  Selfilhnefs  of  the  Stoic  Doftrine  ; 
which,  as  it  all  along  forbids  Pity  and  CompalTion,  will  have 
even  a  King  to  look  upon  the  Welfare  of  his  People,  and  a 
General  on  the  Prefervation  of  his  Soldiers,  as  Matters  quite  fo- 
reign and  iadiiferent  to  him. 


Chap.  22.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  257 

In  that  which  is  inOaved,  or  free  ? — In  the  Free  ? — 

Is  your  Body   then  inflaved,  or  free  ? We  do 

not  know. Do  not  you  know,   that  it  is  the 

Slave  of  Fever,  Gout,  Defluxion,  Dyfentery  :  of  a 
Tyrant ;  of  Fire,  Steel ;  of  every  thing  ftronger 

than    itfelfp Yes,  it   is  a  Slave How  then 

can  any  thing  belonging  to  the  Body  be  unhinder- 
ed ^  And  how  can  that  be  great,  or  valuable, 
which  is,  by  Nature,  lifelefs,  Earth,  Clay  .?  What 
then,  have  you  nothing  free  P — Pollibly  nothing.--» 
Why :  who  can  compel  you  to  aflent  to  what  ap- 
pears falfe  ^ No  one. Or  who,  not  to  ailent 

to  what  appears  true  ? No  one. Here  then 

you  fee,  that  there  is  fomething  in  you,  by  Nature, 
free.  But  who  of  you  can  deiire  or  be  averfe,  or 
ufe  his  adive  Powers  of  Purfuit  or  Avoidance,  or 
concert,  or  purpofe,  unkfs  he  hath  been  impreffed 
by  an  Appearance  of  its  being  for  his  Advantage, 

or  his  Duty  ? No  one. You  have  then,  in 

thefe  too,  fomething  unrellrained  and  fiee.  Culti- 
vate this.  Wretches ;  take  care  of  this  ;  feek  for 

Good  here. '"  But  how   is  it   pollible,  that  a 

"  Man,  worth  nothing,  naked,  without  Houfe  or 
"  Home,  fqualid,  unattended,  who  belongs  to  no 

"  Country,  can  lead  a  profperous  Life.J^" See  : 

God  hath  fent  us  One,  to  fhow,  in  fadt,  that  it  is 
poiTible  (w).     "  Take  Notice  of  me,  that   I  am 

fmj  It  is  obfervable,  that  Epidetus  (eems  to  think  it  a  necef- 
fary  Qualification  in  a  Teacher,  fent  from  God,  *or  the  Inltruc- 
tion  of  Mankind,  to  be  deftitute  of  all  External  Advantages, 
and  a  fuffering  Charader-  Thus  dorh  this  excellent  Man,  who, 
had  carried  human  Reafon  to  To  great  a  Height,  bear  Teftimony 
to  the  Propriety  of  that  Method  which  the  Divine  Wildom 
hath  thought  fit  to  follow,  in  the  Scheme  of  the  Gofpel  ;  whofe 
Great  Author  had  not  iv here  to  lay  hn  Head :  and  which  fome, 
in  later  Ages,  hvave  inconfidcrately  urged  as  an  Argument  againft 
the  Chriftian  Religion.  The  infinite  Difparity  between  the 
Propofal  of  the  Example  of  Diogenes,  in  Fpi^etus,  and  of  our 
Redeemer,  in  the  Ntw  TelUment,  is  too  obvious  to  need  any 
Enlargement. 

S  *'  with- 


258  57?^  Discourses    of       Book  III 

*'  without  a  Country,  without  a  Houfe,  without  an 
*'  Eftate,  without  a  Servant :  I  lie  on  the  Ground  : 
*'  no  Wife,  no  Children,  no  Coat  («)  •,  but  only 
"  Earth,  and  Heaven,  and  one  forry  Cloke.  And, 
"  what  do  I  want?  Am  not  I  without  Sorrow, 
"  without  Fear  ?  Am  not  I  free  ?  Did  any  of  you 
*'  ever  fee  me  difappointed  of  my  Defire,  or  in- 
"  curring  my  Averfion  ?  Did  I  ever  blame  God  or 
"  Man  ?  Did  I  ever  accufe  any  one  ?  Hath  any 
*'  of  you  feen  me  look  difcontented  ?  How  do  I 
*'  treat  thofe  whom  ^<?z/ fear,  and  of  whom  you  are 
"  ftruck  with  Awe  ?  Is  it  not  like  forry  Slaves  ? 
"  Who  that  fees  me,  doth  not  think,  that  he  fees 
"  his  own  King  and  Mailer  ?'*  This  is  the  Lan- 
guage, this  the  Charader,  this  the  Undertaking, 
of  a  Cynic.  No  :  I  warrant  you  \  but  the  Wallet, 
and  the  Staff,  and  the  great  Jaws  :  fwallowing,  or 
treafuring  up,  whatever  is  given  you ;  abufing  un- 
feafbnably  thofe  you  meet ;  or  fhowing  a  brawny. 
Arm.  Do  you  confider,  how  you  (hall  attempt  fb 
important  an  Affair  }  Firfl  take  a  Mirror.  View 
your  Shoulders,  examine  your  Back,  your  Thighs. 
You  are  going  to  be  enrolled  a  Combatant  at  the 
Olympic  Games,  Man  ;  not  in  a  poor  flight  Con- 
tell.  In  the  Olympic  Games,  a  Champion  is  not 
allowed  merely  to  he  conquered,  and  depart  :  but 
mufl  firft  be  difgraced,  in  the  View  of  the  whole 
World  ;  not  only  of  the  Athenians^  or  Spartans^  or 
Nkopolitans  :  and  then  he,  who  hath  rafhly  depart- 
ed, mull  be  whipt  too  ;  and,  before  that,  mud  fuf- 
fer  Thirfl,  and  Heat ;  and  fwallow  an  Abundance 
of  Dull. 

§.6.  Confider  carefully,  know  yourfelf  ^  confult 
the  Divinity  :  attempt  nothing  without  God :  for, 
if  he  counfels  you,  be  afTured,  that  it  is  his  Will, 
that  you  fliould  be  a  great  Man  ;  or,  [which  comes 

to 

(«)  The  Tranflatlon  follows  Mr.  Uj>fott's  Conjedure,  of  p^trw- 
I'agw)',  inltead  of  w^atTwgi^wi'. 


Chap.  22.      E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  259 

to  the  fame  thing,]  fufFer  many  a  Blow.  For  there 
is  this  very  fine  Circumflance  conneded  with  the 
Charadler  of  a  Cynic^  that  he  muft  be  beat  like  an 
Afs;  and,  when  he  is  beat,  muft  love  thofe  who 
beat  him  -,  as  the  Father,  as  the  Brother  of  All  (oj. 
No,  to  be  fure  :  but,  if  any  body  beats  you,  Hand 
publicly  and  roar  out,  "  O,  C^/ar,  am  I  to  fuffer 
*'  fuch  Things,  in  breach  of  your  Peace?     Let  us 

"  go  before   the  Proconful." But   what  is 

C^/ar  to  a  Cynic,  or  what  is  the  Proconful,  or  any 
one  elfe,  but  Jupiter  ?  Who  hath  deputed  him, 
and  Whom  he  ferves.  Doth  he  invoke  any  other 
but  Him  ?  And  is  he  not  perfuaded,  that  what- 
ever he  fuffers  of  this  Sort,  it  is  Jupiter^  who  doth 
it  to  exercife  him  ?  Now  Hercules^  when  he  was 
exercifed  by  Euryftheus^  dfd  not  think  himfelf  mi- 
ferable ;  but  executed,  with  Alacrity,  all  that  was 
to  be  done.  And  (hall  he  who  is  appointed  to  the 
Combat,  and  exercifed  by  Jupiter^  cry  out,  and 
take  Offence  at  things  ?  A  worthy  Perfon,  truly, 
to  bear  the  Scepter  ok  Diogenes  !  Hear  what  He^ 
in  a  Fever,  faid  to  thofe  who  were  paffmg  by  (p). 
"  Sorry  Wretches,  why  do  not  you  ftay  ^  Do  you 
*'  take  fuch  a  Journey  to  Olympia^  to  fee  the  De- 
"  ftrudion,  or  Combat,  of  the  Champions  j  and 
*'  have  you  no  Inclination  to  fee  the  Combat  be- 
S  2  "  tween 

(0)  Compare  this  with  the  Chrilllati  Precepts,  of  Forbear- 
ance, and  Love  to  Enemies,  Matth,  v.  39 44.  The  Rea- 
der will  obferve,  that  Chriii:  fpecifies  higher  Injuries  and  Pro- 
vocations than  EpiSietus  doth  ;  and  requires  of  all  his  Followers, 
what  EpBetm  defcribes  only  as  the  Duty  of  one  or  two  extra-- 
ordinary  Perfons,  as  fuch. 

(/)  St,  Jerotriy  cited  by  Mr.  Upton^  gives  the  following, 
fomewhat  different,  Account  of  this  Matter.  Diogenes,  as  he 
was  going  to  the  Olympic  Games,  was  taken  with  a  Fever, 
and  laid  himfelf  down  in  the  Road :  his  Friends  would  have 
put  him  into  fome  Vehicle ;  but  he  refufed  it,  and  bid  them  go 
on  to  the  Show.  *'  This  Night,''  faid  he,  **  I  will  either  con- 
**  quer,  or  be  conquered.  If  I  conquer  the  Fever,  I  will 
**  come  to  the  Games ;  if  it  conquers  me,  1  will  defeend  to 
"  Hades." 


2  6o  I'be   Dl  s c o  u  rses  of        Book  III. 

"  tween  a  Man  and  a  Fever  ?"  Such  a  one,  who 
took  a  Pride  in  difficult  Circumftances,  and  thought 
himfelf  worthy  to  be  a  Spedacle  to  thofe  who 
paffed  by,  was  a  likely  Peribn,  indeed,  to  accufe 
God,  v/ho  had  deputed  him,  as  treating  him  uut 
worthily  !  For  what  Subjed  of  Accufation  fhall  he" 
find  ?  That  he  preferves  a  Decency  of  Behaviour  ? 
With  what  doth  he  tiiid  fault  ?     That  he  fets  his 

own   Virtue  in  a  clearer   Light  ? Well  :  and 

what  doth  he  fay  of  Poverty  ?  Of  Death  ?  Of 
Pain  ?  How  did  he  compare  his  Happinefs  with 
that  of  the  Perfian  King ;  or  rather  thought  it  be- 
yond Comparifon.  For,  amidfl  Perturbations,  and 
Griefs,  and  Fears,  and  difap pointed  Defires,  and 
incurred  Averfions,  how  can  there  be  any  Enirance 
for  Happinefs?  And,  where  there  are  corrupt 
Principles,  there  mufl  all  thefe  Things  neceffarily 
be. 

§.  7.  The  fame  young  Man  enquiring.  Whether, 
if  a  Friend  fhould  be  willing  to  come  to  him,  and 
take  care  of  him  when  he  wasfick,  he  lliould  com- 
ply ?  And  where,  fays  Epicletus^  will  you  find 
me  the  Friend  of  a  Cynic  ?  For  to  be  worthy  of 
being  numbered  among  his  Friends,  a  Perfon 'ought 
to  be  fuch  another  as  himfelf:  he  ought  to  be  a 
Partner  of  the  Scepter  and  the  Kingdom,  and  a 
worthy  Minifler,  if  he  would  be  honoured  with  his 
Friendfhip  -,  as  Dingenes  was  the  Friend  of  Antijlke^ 
nes- ;  as  Crates^  of  Diogenes.  Do  you  think,  that 
he  who  only  comes  to  him,  and  falutes  him,  is  his 
Friend;  and  that  he  will  think  him  worthy  of  being 
entertained  as  fuch  ?  If  fuch  a  Thought  comes  into 
your  Head,  rather  look  round  you,  for  fome  clever 
Dunghill,  to  (helter  you  in  your  Fever,  from  the 
North  Wind,  that  you  may  not  perifh  by  taking 
Cold.  But  you  feem  to  me,  to  want  [only]  to  get 
into  fomebody's  Houfe,  and  to  be  well  fed  there  a 
while.  What  Bufmefs  have  you  then,  even  to  at* 
tempt  fo  important  an  Affair  as  this  ? 

§■  8. 


Chap.  22.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  261 

§.  8.  But  (faid  the  young  Man)  will  a  Cynic  en- 
gage himfeif  in  Marriage,  and  the  Produdion  of 
Children,  as  a  principal  Point  {q)  ? 

If  you  will  allow  me  a  Republic  of  Sages,  no  one 
there,  perhaps,  will  readily,  apply  himleif  to  the 
Cynic  Philofophy.  For  on  whofc  Account  fhould 
he  embrace  that  Method  of  Life?  However,  fup- 
pofe  he  doth,  there  will  be  nothing  to  re fl rain  him 
from  marrying,  and  having  Children.  For  his  Wife 
will  be  fuch  another  as  himfeif;  his  Father- in-Law 
fuch  another  as  himfeif;  and  his  Children  will  be 
brought  up  in  the  fame  manner.  But  as  the  State 
of  Things  now  is,  like  that  of  an  Army  prepared 
for  Battle,  is  it  not  neceffary  that  a  Cynic  Ihould  be 
without  (r)  Diftradion ;  intirely  attentive  to  the 
Service  of  God  :  at  Liberty  to  wallc  about  among 
Mankind :  not  tied  down  to  vulgar  Duties,  nor 
entangled  in  Relations;  which,  if  he  tranfgrefles, 
he  will  no  longer  keep  the  Charader  of  a  wife  and 
good  Man;  and  which,  if  he  obferves,  there  is  an 
End  of  him,  as  the  Meflenger,  and  Spy,  and  He- 
rald of  the  Gods!^  For,  confider,  there  are  iome 
Offices  due  to  his  Father-in-Law  ;  f  >me  to  the  o- 
ther  Relations  of  his  Wife;  Ibme  to  his  Wife  her- 
felf :  befides,  afier  this,  he  is  (s)  confined  to  the 
S  3  Care 

(q)  The  Stoics  dircfted  this  ;  and  tlie  Epicureans  forbad  it. 

(/•)  It  is  remarkable,  that  Ep'ftetus\\txt.\xW^  the  fame  Word 
(a7r£pi(T7rarw?)  with  St.  Paul,  i  Cor.  vii.  3,5.  and  urres  the  Tame 
Coiilideration,  of  applying  whol)/  to  the  Service  of  God,  to 
difluade  from  Marriage.  His  Oblervation  too,  that  the  State  of 
Things  was  then  [uz  sv  Trct^arci^n)  like  that  of  an  Army  prepared 
for  Battle^  nearly  relembles  the  Apollle's  {ivir^aa.  avotym)  prefent 
NeceJ/ity.  St.  Paul  i'aySy  zTi?n.'\\.  4.  (ot/^Et?  rpaTEt-o/AJfo^  £|X9rA£XtTai, 
&C. )  no  Man  that  nxarreth  cntangieth  himfef  'with  the  /tffairs 
cf  this  Life.  So  Eptiietus  fays  here,  that  a  Cynic  mull:  not  be 
{nxTTfuhiy^ivov)  entangled  in  Relations,  &c.  From  ihefe  and  many 
other  Paifages  of  Epi^etus,  one  v^ould  be  inclined  to  think, 
that  he  was  not  unacquainted  uitli  St.  PauPs  Epiilles;  or,  that 
he  had  heard  fomething  of  the  Chrillian  Dodrine.  Yet  ice  In- 
trodurtion,  §   40. 

(sj  ExxAHSTfiM  fhould  be  iyx>.uilai ;  and  Is  fo  iranflated. 


762  ^he  Discourses  of        Book  HI. 

Gare  of  his  Family  when  fick,  and  making  Provi- 
fion  for  their  Support.  Not  to  fpeak  of  other  Things, 
he  mufl  have  a  VeiTel,  to  warm  Water  in,  to  bathe 
his  Child.  There  mufl  be  Wool,  Oil,  a  Bed,  a 
Cup,  for  his  Wife,  after  her  Delivery ;  and  thus 
the  Furniture  increafes :  more  Bufmefs,  more  Di- 
ftraclion.  Where,  for  the  future,  is  this  King, 
whofe  Time  is  devoted  to  the  public  Good  ? 

To  whom  its  Safety^  a  whole  People  owes. 

Who  ought  to  overfee  others  ;  married  Men,  Fa- 
thers of  Children  :  [to  obferve]  who  treats  his  Wife 
well ;  who,  ill  :  who  quarrels :  which  Family  is 
well  regulated  ;  which,  not :  like  a  Phyfician,  who 
goes  about,  and  feels  the  Pulfe  of  his  Patients: 
*'  Tou  have  a  Fever ;  you  the  Head-ach  ;  you^  the 
*'  Gout.  Do  you  (t)  abftain  from  Food :  do  you 
*'  eat :  do  you  omit  Bathing  :  you  muft  have  an  In- 
*'  cifion  made  :  you  muft  be  cauteriied.  Where  fhall 
He  have  Leifure  for  this,  who  is  tied  down  to  vul- 
gar Duties  ?  Muft  not  he  provide  Clothes  for  his 
Children  ;  and  fend  them  with  Pens,  and  Ink,  and 
Paper,  to  a  Schoolmafter  ?  Muft  not  he  provide 
a  Bed  for  them  ?  (For  they  cannot  be  Cynics  from 
their  very  Birth)  Otherwile,  it  would  have  been 
better  to  expofe  them,  as  foon  as  they  were  born, 
than  to  kill  them  thus.  Do  you  fee  to  v/hat  we 
bring  down  our  Cynic  ?     How  we  deprive  him  of 

his  Kingdom  r-' ^''  Well:  but  Crates  («)   was 

^'  married.'* 

{t)  A<Tir'fia<iv.     Upton.     Wolf i us. 

{u)  Crates  was  a  Thehan  of  Birth  and  Fortune,  who  v/as  fo 
charmed  by  the  Appearance  ofTelephus,  in  the  Charafter  of  a 
dirty,  ragged  Beggar,  upon  the  Stage,  that  he  gave  away  all 
his  Eilare,  affumed  the  Wallet  and  Staff,  and  turned  Cynic. 
Hippa^chiay  a  Thracian  Lady,  was  fo  affetled  by  the  Difcourfes 
and  Manners  of  this  polite  Phllofopher,  that  fiie  fell  defperately 
in  love  with  him,  and  neither  the  Riches,  Beauty,  or  DilUnc- 
tion,  of  others,  who  paid  their  Addrelfes  to  her,  were  able  to 
rival  him,  in  her  Heart.     Her  Relations  vainly  endeavoured  to 

oppofe 


Chap.  22.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  263 

"  married."  The  Cafe  of  which  you  fpeak  was  a 
particular  one,  arifing  from  Love  ;  and  the  Woman, 
another  Crates.  But  we  are  enquiring  about  ordi- 
nary and  (v)  common  Marriages:  and  in  this  En- 
quiry we  do  not  find  the  Affair  mightily  fuited  to 
the  Condition  of  a  Cynic. 

§.  9.  How  then  fhall  he  keep  up  Society  ? 

For  Heaven's  fake,  do  they  confer  a  greater  Be- 
nefit upon  the  World,  who  leave  two  or  three  Ini- 
veling  Children  in  their  (lead,  than  thofe,  who,  as 
far  as  polfible,  overfeeall  Mankind  •,  what  they  do  ; 
how  they  live  ;  what  they  attend  to  •,  what  they  ne- 
glect, contrary  to  their  Duty.  Did  all  they,  who 
left  Children  to  the  ^hebans^  do  t';em  more  Good 
than  Epaminondas^  wlio  'died  childlefs  .?  And  did 
Priam^  who  was  the  Father  of  fifty  Profiigates,  or 
Danaus  {w)  or  /Eoius,  conduce  more  to  the  Ad- 
S  4  vantage 

oppofe  her  Inclination  :  flie  was  deaf  to  all  their  Remonftrances ; 
and  even  threatened  to  kill  herfelf,  unlefs  Ihe  was  fuffered  to 
marry  Crates.  At  the  Defire  of  her  Family,  he  tried,  himfelf, 
to  difluade  her  from  this  Scheme.  He  pointed  out  to  her  the 
Deformity  of  his  Perfon  ;  and,  throwing  down  his  Wallet  and 
Staff  before  her,  told  her,  thefe  were  all  the  Riches  (he  was  to 
expetSt  ;  and  that  his  Wife  muft  purfue  the  fame  Courfe  of  Life, 
as  he  did  :  and  defired  her  to  confider  of  it.  But  no  Confidera- 
tion  was  able  to  Ihake  her  Refolution.  She  married  him,  and 
became  as  abfolute  a  Cynic  as  himfelf ;  utterly  difregarding  all 
external  Propriety  and  Decency.  See  Diog.  Laertius,  in 
their  Lives. 

(vj  Mr.  Upton's  Reading. 

(w)  Danaus  and  Egyptus  were  the  Sons  of  Belus.  Danaus  had 
fifty  Daughters,  who,'  from  their  Grandfather,  were  called  Be- 
lides'y  and  Egyptus,  fifty  Sons.  After  a  Quarrel  between  the 
two  Brothers,  a  Reconciliation  was  agreed,  upon  Condirion  of 
a  Marriage  between  their  Children.  But  Danaus^  having  learnt 
from  an  Oracle,  that  he  was  to  be  killed  by  one  of  his  Sons-in- 
Law,  commanded  his  Daughters  to  murder  their  Hulbands,  and 
furnilhed  them  with  Daggers  for  that  Purpofe.  They  all,  except 
one,  executed  this  cruel  Order.  The  Poets  reprefent  them,  as  pu- 
nifhed,  in  the  infernal  Regions,  by  an  everlafting  unavailing 
Attempt,  to  fill  a  Sieve  with  Water. 

uEolus  was  the  Father  of  Sifyphus ;  who,  for   his  infamous 

Rob* 


964  ^he  Discou  RSES  of  Book  III. 

vantage  of  Society,  than  Homer  ?  Shall  a  military 
Command,  or  any  other Pofl,  then,  exempt  a  Man 
from  marrying,  and  becoming  a  Father,  fo  that  he 
Ihall  be  thought  to  have  made  fufficient  Amends 
for  the  Want  of  Children  :  and  fhall  not  the  King- 
dom of  a  Cynic  be  a  proper  Compenfation  for  it? 
Perhaps  we  do  not  uaderfland  his  Grandeur,  nor 
duly  reprefent  to  ourfelves  the  Character  of  Dio^e- 
nes%  but  confider  Cynics  as  they  are  now  ;  who 
ftand  like  Dogs  V/atchingat  Tables,  and  who  imi- 
tate the  others  in  nothing,  unlefs,  perhaps,  in  break- 
ing wind  i  but  abfolutely  .in  nothing  befides:  elfe 
this  [which  you  have  objedcd]  would  not  move  us ; 
nor  iliould  we  be  aflionifhed,  tliat  a  Cynic  will  not 
marry,  nor  have  Children.  Confider,  Sir,  ti:at  he 
is  the  Father  of  Human  kind  :  that  all  Men  are  his 
Sons,  aiid  all  Women  his  Daughters.  Thus  he 
attends;  thus  takes  Care  of  All.  What!  do  you 
think  it  is  fiom  Impertinence,  that  he  rebukes  thofe 
he  meets.?  He  doth  it  as  a  Father,  as  a  Brother, 
as  a  Minifler  of  the  common  Parent,  Jove. 

§.  10.  Afk  me,  if  you  pleafe,  too.  Whether  a 
Cynic  w,li  engage  in  the  Adminiilration  of  the 
Commonwealth.  What  Commonwealth  do  you 
enquire  after,  Blockhead,  greater  than  what  he  ad- 
minifters  r  Whether  he  will  harangue  among  the 
Atbenians^  about  Revenues  and  Taxes,  whofe  Bu- 
fmefs  it  is  to  debate' with  all  Mankind;  with  the 
Aihenicn^'  ( orin-hians^  an:\  Romans ^  equally;  not 
about  Taxes  and  Revenues,  or  Peace  and  War, 
but  about  Tiappii^eis  and  Mifery,  Profperity  and 
Adverfity,  Slavery  and  Freedom.  Do  you  aikme, 
whether  a  Man  engages  in. the  Adminiftration  of 
the  Comm«nweahh,  who  ad ni iniflers  fuch  a  Com- 
monwealth as  diis  ?  All<.  me  too,  whether  he  will 
accept  any  Command  ?    I  will   anfwer  you  again. 

What 

Robberies,  wa*;  killed  hy  f^g/rus,' snd,  after  his  Death,  con- 
demned, in   Tanarusy  to   roll  continually  a  vaft  Stone  up  a 

Hill. 


Chap.  22.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  76s 

What  Command,  Fool,  greater  than  that  which  he 
now  exercifes  r 

§.  II.  A  Cynic,  however,  hath  need  of  a  Con- 
Iti'uuon  duiy  qualified:  for,  if  he  fhould  appear 
confumptive,  thin,  and  pale,  his  Teftimony  hath 
no  longer  the  flime  Authority  For  he  mull  not  only 
give  a  i^roof  to  the  Vulgar,  by  the  Conilancy  of  his 
iViind,  that  it  is  polllble  to  be  a  Man  of  Figure  and 
Merit,  v/ithout  thofe  Things  tliat  ftrike  ilm  wi'th 
Admiration  :  but  he  mAUt  fnow  too,  by  his  Body, 
that  a  fimple  and  flender  Diet,  under  the  open  Air, 
doth  no  {njury  to  the  Conflitution.  "  See,  I  and 
*'  my  Body  are  a  Vvltnefs  to  this."  As  Diogenes 
did:  for  he  Vvent  about  frefh,  and  plump-,  and 
gained  the  Attention  of  the  Many,  by  the  very  Ap- 
pearance of  a  healthy  Body.  But  a  pitiable  Cynic 
feems  a  mere  Beggar :  all  avoid  him  -,  all  are  of- 
fended at  him  :  for  he  ought  not  to  appear  iloven- 
ly,  fo  as  to  drive  People  irom  him  ;  but  even  his 
rough  Negligence  fhould  be  neat  and  engaging. 

§.12.  Much  natural  Agreeablenefs  and  Acutenefs 
are  likewife  necefTary  in  a  Cynic,  fotherwife  he  be- 
comes a  mere  Driveller,  and  nothing  elfe)  -,  that  he 
may  be  able  to  give  an  Anfwer  readily,  and  perti- 
nently, upon  every  Occafion.  Like  Drogenes^  to 
one  who  afked  him ,  *'  Are  you  that  Dk^enes^  who 
*'  do  not  believe,  there  are  any  Gods.?"  ''  How 
"  fo,  replied  he,  when  I  think  you  odious  to  them  ?" 
Again  :  when  Alexander  furprifed  him  deeping,  and 
repeated. 

To  wafte  long  Nights  in  indolent  Repofe 
III  Jits  a  Chiefs  who  mighty  Nations  guides, 

before  he  was  quite  awake,  he  anfwered, 

Diretis  in  Council^  and  in  ^Var  pre  fides. 

Pope's  Homer.  B.  II.  V.  27. 

§.13.  But,  above  all,  the  ruling  Faculty  of  a 
Cynic  mufl  be  purer  than  the  Sun :  otherwife  he 

mufl 


266  The  Disc  0  1]  KSES  of        Book  III. 

miift  neceflarily  be  a  common  Cheat,  and  a  Rafcal ; 
if,  while  he  is  guilty  of  fome  Vice  himfelf,  he  re- 
proves others.  For,  confider  how  the  Cafe  (lands. 
Arms  and  Guards  give  a  Power  to  common  Kings 
and  Tyrants  of  reproving,  and  ofpunifhing  Delin- 
quents, though  they  are  wicked  themfelves  :  but  to 
a  Cynic,  inllead  of  Arms  and  Guards,  Confcience 
gives  this  Power ;  when  he  knows,  that  he  hath 
watched  and  laboured  for  Mankind :  that  he  hath 
flept  pure,  and  waked flill  purer:  and  that  he  hath 
regulated  all  his  Thoughts  as  the  Friend,  as  the 
Minifler  of  the  Gods,  as  a  Partner  of  the  Empire 
of  Jupiier :  that  he  is  ready  to  fay,  upon  all  Occa- 
lions, 

Conduei  me  ]o\t^  andthou^  0  Deftiny. 

And,  "  if  it  thus  pleafes  the  Gods,  thus  let  it  be.'* 
Why  fhould  he  not  dare  to  fpeak  boldly  to  his  own 
Brethren,  to  his  Children  ?  in  a  word,  to  his  Kin- 
dred ?  Hence  he,  who  is  thus  qualified,  is  neither 
impertinent,  nor  a  bufy  Body:  for  he  is  not  bufied 
about  the  Affairs  of  others,  but  his  own,  when  he 
over  fees  the  Tranfadions  of  Men.  Otherwife  fay, 
that  a  General  is  a  bufy  Body,  when  he  overfees, 
examines,  and  watches  his  Soldiers ;  and  punifhes 
the  Diforderly.  But,  if  you  reprove  others,  at  the 
very  Time  that  you  have  a  Cake  [concealed]  un- 
der your  own  Arm,  I  will  afl<:  you  ;  Had  you  not 
better,  Sir,  go  into  a  Corner,  and  eat  up  what  you 
jiave  flclen  ?  But  what  have  you  to  do  with  the 
Concerns  of  others  ?  For  what  are  you  ?  Are  yoii 
the  Bull  in  the  Herd,  or  the  Queen  of  the  Bees  I 
Show  me  fuch  Enfigns  of  Empire,  as  Ihehath  from 
Nature.  But,  if  you  are  a  Drone,  and  arrogate 
to  yourfelf  the  Kingdom  of  the  Bees,  do  not  you 
think,  that  your  fellow  Citizens  will  drive  you  out, 
juft  as  the  Bees  do  the  Drones  .? 

§.  14.  A  Cynic  muft,  befides,  have  fo  much  Pa- 
tience, as  to  feem  infenfible,  and  a  Stone,  to  the 

Vulgar. 


Chap.  22.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  s-67 

Vulgar.  No  one  reviles,  no  one  beats,  no  one  af- 
fronts him ;  but  he  hath  furrendered  his  Body  to  be 
treated  at  pleafure,  by  any  one  who  will.  For  he 
remembers,  that  the  Inferior,  in  whatever  Inftance 
it  is  the  inferior,  muft  be  conquered  by  the  Supe- 
rior :  and  the  Body  is  inferior  to  the  Multitude, 
the  Weaker  to  the  Stronger.  He  never  therefore, 
enters  into  a  Combat  where  he  can  be  conquered  ; 
but  immediately  gives  up  what  belongs  to  others  : 
he  doth  not  claim  what  is  flavifh  and  dependent : 
but,  where  Choice,  and  the  Ufe  of  the  Appear- 
ances, are  concerned,  you  will  fee,  that  he  hath  fo 
many  Eyes,  you  would  fay  Argos  was  blind  to  him. 
Is  his  AfTent  ever  precipitate  .?  His  Purfuits,  ever 
rafh  ?  His  Defire,  ever  difappointed  ?  His  Aver- 
fion,  ever  incurred  }  His  Intention,  ever  fruitlefs  } 
Is  he  ever  querulous,  ever  dejeded,  ever  envious? 
Here  lies  all  his  Attention  and  Application.  With 
regard  to  other  Things,  he  fnores  fupine.  All  is 
Peace.  There  is  no  Robber,  no  Tyrant  of  the 
Choice.— —But  of  the  Body  ?~— l-Yes.— - 
The  Eflate  .^- Yes. Magillracies  and  Ho- 
nours }— — -Yes.  And  what  doth  he  care  for  thefe  ? 
When  any  one  therefore  would  frighten  him  with 
them,  he  fays,  "  Go,  look  for  Children  :  Vizards 
*'  are  frightful  to  Them\  but  /  know  they  are 
"  only  Shell,  and  have  nothing  within  fide." 

§.  15.  Such  is  the  Affair  about  which  you  are  de- 
liberating :  therefore,  if  you  pleafe,  for  Heaven's 
fake,  defer  it ;  and  firft  confider  how  you  are  pre- 
pared for  it.  Mind  what  He  dor  fays  to  Andro^ 
mac  he. 

No  more hut  haflen  to  thy  ^ajks  at  home^ 

There  guide  the  Spindle^  and  dirc£i  the  Loom, 
Me^  Glory  fummoyts^  to  the  Martial  Sceney 
The  Field  of  Combat  is  the  Sphere  for  Men. 

Pope's  Homer. 
Thus  confcious  he    was  of  his  own  Qualifica- 
tions, and  of  her  Weaknefs. 

CHAP- 


2  68  ^he  Discourses  of       Book  111. 

CHAPTER    XXIII. 

Concerning  fuch  as  read  and  difpute,  ofientatioujly. 

§.  I.  TTTRST  fay  to  yourfelf,  what  you  would 
X^   be ;  and   then  do,  what  you  have  to  do. 
For,  in  almoft  every  thing  elfe,  we   fee  this  to  be 
the  Praiiice.     Olympic  Champions  fiiit  determine 
what  they  would  be,  and  then  adt  accordingly.  To 
a  Racer,  in  a  longer  Courfe,  there  muil:  be  one  kind 
of  Diet,    Walking,  Anointing,    and  Exercife :    to 
one  in  a  fhorter,  all  thefe  muft  be  different  \  and  to 
a  Pentathlete  (^),  flill  more  different.     You  will 
find  the  Cafe  the  fame  in  the  manual  Arts,     if  a 
Carpenter,  you  muft  have  fuch  and  fuch  Things  : 
if  a  Smith,  fuch   other.     For,  if  we  do  not  refer 
each  of  our  Adions  to  fbme  End,  we  fhall  ad  at 
random  :  if  to  an  improper  one,  we  fhall  mifs  our 
Aim.     Further  :  there  is  a  general  and  a  particular 
End.     Firft,  to  ad  as  a  Man.     What  is  compre- 
hended in  this }     Not  to  be,  though  gentle,  like  a 
Sheep;  nor   mifchievous,  like  a  wild  Beaft.     But 
the  particular  End  relates  to  the  Study,  and  Choice 
of  each  Individual.     A  Harper  is  to  ad  as  a  Har- 
per ;  a  Carpenter,  as  a  Carpenter ;  a  Philofopher, 
as  a  Philofopher ;  an  Orator,  as  an  Orator.     When 
therefore  you  fay,  ''  Come,  and   hear  me  read  :'* 
obferve  firft,  not  to  do  this  at  random  ;  and,  in  the 
next  place,  after  you  have  found  to  what  End  you 
refer    it,  confider  whether   it   be   a   proper   one. 
Would   you    be  ufeful,  or  be  praifed .?     You  pre- 
fently  hear  him  fay,  ''  What  do  I  value  the  Praife 
''  of  the  Multitude  V     And  he  fays  well :  for  this 
is  nothing  to  a  Mufician,  or  a  Geometrician,  as 
fuch.     You  would  be  ufeful  then.     In  what }    Tell 
us,  that  we  too  may  run,  to  make  Part  of  your 

Audience. 

(a)  See  Note/?,  p.  196. 


Chap.  23.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  269 

Audience.  Now,  is  it  pollible  for  any  one  to  bene- 
fit others,  who  hath  received  no  Benefit  himfelf  ? 
No  :  for  neither  can  he,  who  is  not  a  Carpenter, 
or  a  Shoemaker,  benefit  any,  in  refpedt  to  thofe 
Arts.  Would  you  know  then,  whether  you  have 
received  Benefit  ^  Produce  your  Principles,  Philo- 
Ibpher  :  What  is  the  Aim  and  Promife  of  Defire  ? 
Not  to  be  difappointed.  What  of  Averfion  .?  Not 
to  be  incurred.  Come  :  do  we  fulfil  this  Promiie  ? 
Tell  me  the  Truth  :  but,  if  you  falfify,  I  will  tell  it: 
you.  The  other  Day,  when  your  Audience  came 
but  coldly  together,  and  did  not  receive  what  you 
faid,  with  Acclamations  ot  Applaufe,  you  went 
away  dejeded.  Again  :  the  other  Day,  when  you 
were  praifed,    you  went  about,  afking  every  body, 

''  What  did  you  think  of  rfie .?" "Upon  my 

"  Life,  Sir,  it  was  prodigious." "  But,  how  did 

"  I  exprefs  myfelf  upon  that  Subjed  ?'*•—"  Which  ?" 

^ ''  Where  I  gave  a  Defcription  o(  Pan,  and 

"  the  Nfmpbs  ib)r' *'  Mod  excellently." > 

And  do  you  tell  me,  after  this,  that  you  regulate 
your  Defires  and  Averfions  conformably  to  Nature  ? 
Get  you  gone.  Perfuade  fomebody  elfe.  Did  not 
you,  the  other  Day,  praife  a  Man,  contrary  to 
your  own  Opinion  .?  ^Did  not  you  flatter  a  certain 
Senator  ?     Would  you  wifh  your  own  Children  to 

be  like  him? ''Heaven  forbid!" ''  Why 

"  then  did  you  praife  and  cajole  him  P" ''  He  is 

"  an  ingenious  young  Man,    and  attentive  to  Dif- 

"  courlts  " "  How   fo .?"— "  He  admires  me:' 

Now  indeed  you  have  produced  your  Proof.  After 
all,  what  do  you  think  ?  Do  not  thefe  very  People 
fecretly  defpife  you  ^  When  therefore  a  Man,  con- 
fcious  of  no  good  Adion,  or  Intention,  finds  fbme 
Philofopher  faying,  "  You  are  a  great  Genius,  and 
"  of  a  frank  and  candid  Difpofition  j"  what  do  you 

think 

(h)  Mr.  Upfofi  obferves,  that  thefe  florid  Defcription s  were 
the  principal  Study  of  the  Sophifls, 


270  *^^e  Discourses  of        Book  III. 

think  he  fays,  but,  *'  This  Man  hath  fome  Need  of 
*'  me."  Pray  tell  me,  what  Adion  of  a  great  Ge- 
nius he  hath  fhown.  You  fee,  he  hath  long  con- 
verfed  with  you,  hath  heard  your  Difcourfes,  hath 
heard  your  Ledures.  Hath  he  turned  his  Attention 
to  himfeif?  Hath  he  perceived  his  own  Faults? 
Hath  he  thrown  off  his  Conceit  ?    Doth  he  feek  an 

Inftrudor  ? Yes,    he    doth. An   Inftrudor 

how  to  live  P  No,  Fool ;  but  how  to  talk  :  for  it  is 
upon  this  Account  that  he  admires  you.  Hear 
what  he  fays.  "  This  Man  writes  with  very  great 
*^  Art,  and  much  more  finely  than  Dion  (f).*' 
That  is  quite  another  Thing.  Doth  he  fay.  This  is 
a  moded,  faithful,  calm  Peribn  ?  But,  if  he  faid  this 
too,  I  would  alk  him,  fince  he  is  faithful.  What  is 
it  to  be  faithful  (d)  ?  And,  if  he  could  not  tell,  f 
would  add,  Firll  learn  the  Meaning  of  what  you 
fay,  and  then  fpeak.  While  you  are  in  this  bad 
Difpofition  then,  and  gaping  after  Applauders,  and 
counting  your  Hearers,  would  you  be  of  Benefit  to 
others  ?  "  To-day  I  had  many  more  Hearers." 
"  Yes,  many :  we  think  there  were  five  hundred.*' 

You  fay  nothing  :  make  them  a  Thoufand. 

"  Dion  never  had  fo  great  an  Audience."    "  How 

"  (hould  he  ?" ''  And  they  have  a  fine  Tafte 

**  for  Difcourfes." ''  What  is  excellent.    Sir, 

*'  will  move  even  a  Stone."  Here  is  the  Language 
of  a  Philofopher!  Here  is  the  Difpofition  of  one, 
who  is  to  be  beneficial  to  Mankind  !  Here  is  the 
Man,  attentive  to  Difcourfes !  Who  hath  read  the 
Works  of  the  Socratic  Philofophers,  as  fuch  ;  not  as 
if  they  were  the  Writings  of  Orators,  like  Lyfius 
and  Ifocrates.     "  /  have  often  wondered  by  what  Ar- 

*'  gumentSy 

(c)  Dion  was  a  Greek  Writer  of  thofe  Times  j  called,  for  his 
Eloquence,  Chryfofiom,  or  Golden- mouthed  j  as  one  of  the  Fa- 
thers of  the  Church  was  afterwards. 

(d)  The  Senfe  feems  abfolutely  to  require,  that  the  latter 
wtn  fliould  be  either  expunged  or  changed  into  tovto. 


Chap.  23.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  271 

"  guments  (^),  &c.  No :  By  what  Argument  :  that 
*'  is  the  more  perfedly  accurate  Exprellion.'*  Is 
this  to  have  read  them  any  otherwife,  than  as  you 
read  little  Pieces  of  Poetry  ?  If  you  read  them  as 
you  ought,  you  would  not  dwell  on  fuch  Trifles ; 
but  would  rather  confider  fuch  a  PafTage  as  this  : 
Anytus  and  Melitus  may  kill ;  but  they  cannot  hurt 
me.  And,  /  am  always  Jo  difpofed^  as  to  regard 
none  of  my  Friends^  but  that  Reafon^  which^  after 
Examination^  appears  to  me  to  be  the  beji.  Hence, 
who  ever  heard  Socrates  fay,  ''  I  know,  or 
"  teach,  any  thing  ?"  But  he  fent  different  Peo- 
ple to  different  Inftruclors :  fo  they  came  to  him, 
defiring  to  be  recommended  to  the  Philofophers ; 
and  he  took  and  recommended  them.  No :  but  I 
warrant  you,  as  he  accompanied  them,  he  ufed  ta 
give  them  fuch  Advice  as  this  :  "  Hear  me  difcourfe 

"  To-day  at  the  Houfe  di  ^adratus  (f)r — 

Why  ftiould  I  hear  you  ?  Have  you  a  Mind  to 
fhow.  me  how  finely  you  put  Words  together.  Sir  ? 
And  what  Good  doth  that  do  you  ?     *"  But  praife 

*'  me.*' What  do  you  mean  by  praifing  you  ? 

• Say,    incomparable!     prodigious! Well  : 

I  do  fay  it.  But,  if  Praife  be  that  which  the  Philo- 
fophers call  by  the  Appellation  of  Good^  what  have 
I  to  praife  you  for  ^    If  it  be  a  Good  to  fpeak  well, 

teach  me,  and  I  will  praife  you. "  What  then, 

"  ought  thefe  Things  to  be  heard  without  Piea- 

"  fure  ?" By  no  means.    I  do  not  hear  even  a 

Harper,  without  Pleafure ;  but  am  I  therefore  to 
fland  playing  upon  the  Harp }  Hear  what  Socra- 
tes fays  to  his  Judges.  *'  It  would  not  be  decent 
"  for  me  to  appear  before  you,  at  this  Age,  com- 

''  pofing 

(e)  Thefe  Words  are  the  Beginning  oi Xenophori%  Memoirs 
ofSocrafeii  an<^  it  was  a  Debate  among  the  minute  Critics, 
whether  Argument  or  Arguments  was  the  proper  Reading. 
Upton. 

(f)  It  might  be  ufual  for  Perfons  of  Fafhion  to  lend  their 
Houfes,  for  Sophids  and  Orators  to  declaim  in.    Upton. 


272  7he  Discourses  of        Book  III. 

*'  pofmg  Speeches,  like  a  Boy."  Like  a  Boy,  fays 
he.  For  it  is,  without  doubt,  a  pretty  Knack,  to 
chiife  out  Words,  and  place  them  together :  and 
then  to  read  or  fpeak  them  gracefully  in  public ; 
and,  in  the  midfl  of  the  Difcourfe,  to  obferve, 
that  "  he  vows  by  all  that  is  good,  there  are  but 
*'  Few  capable  of  thefe  Things."  But  doth  a  Phi- 
lofopher  apply  to  People  to  hear  him  }  Doth  not 
he  attrad  thofe  who  are  fitted  to  receive  Benefit 
from  him,  in  the  fame  manner  as  the  Sun,  or  their 
necelTary  Food  doth  }  What  Phyfician  applies  to 
any  body  to  be  cured  by  him  }  (Though  now  in- 
deed I  hear,  that  the  Phyficians  at  Rome  apply  for 
Patients  \  but  in  my  Time  they  were  applied  to ) 
*'  I  apply  to  you,  to  come  and  hear  that  you  are 
''  in  a  bad  Way  ;  and  that  you  take  care  of  every 
"  thing,  but  what  you  ought :  that  you  know  not 
"  what  is  good  or  evil ;  and  are  unfortunate,  and 
*'  unhappy.'*  A  fine  Application  1  And  yet,  un- 
lefs  the  Difcourfe  of  a  Philofopher  hath  thisEffedt, 
both  that,  and  the  Speaker,  are  void  of  Life  (g), 
Ruftts  ufed  to  fay.  If  you  are  at  leifure  to  praife  me, 
1  ipeak  to  no  Purpofe.  And  .indeed  he  ufed  to 
fpeak  in  fuch  a  manner,  that  each  of  us,  who  heard 
him,  fuppofed,  that  fome  Perfon  had  accufed  us  to 
him ;  he  fo  hit  upon  what  was  done  by  us,  and 
placed  the  Faults  of  every  one,  before  his  Eyes. 

§.  2.  The  School  of  a  Philofopher  is  a  Surgery. 
Yoivare  not  to  go  out  of  it  with  Pleafure,  but  with 
Pain  ;  for  you  come  there,  not  in  Health  :  but  one 
of  you  hath  a  diflocated  Shoulder ;  anotheV,  an 
Abfceis ;  a  third,  a  Fifbula  ;  a  fourth,  the  Head- 
ach.  And  am  I  then,  to  fit  uttering  pretty  trifling 
Thoughts,  and  little  Exclamations,  that,  when 
you  have  praifed  me,  you  may  each  of  you  go  away 
with  the  fame  diflocated  Shoulder,  the  fame  aching 

Head, 

(g)  St.  James  ufes  the  fame  Word,  when  he  faith,  Faith 
nx:itbout  Works  is  dead. 


Chap.  23.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  273 

Head,  the  fame  Fiflula,  and  the  fame  Abfcefs, 
that  you  brought  ?  And  is  it  for  this  that  young 
Men  are  to  travel  ?  And  do  they  leave  their  Pa- 
rents, their  Friends,  their  Relations,  and  their  Ef^ 
tates,  that  they  may  praife  you,  while  you  are  ut- 
tering little  Exclamations  ?  Was  this  the  Pradlice 
of  Sooa-'es  F  Of  Zt no ?  Of  Cleanthes ?  ''  What 
"  then  !  is  there  not  in  fpeaking,  a  Style  and  Man- 

''  ner  of  Exhortation  ?" Who  denies  it  ?    Jufl 

as  there  is  a  Manner  of  Confutation,  and  of  Inflrudli- 
on.  But  who  ever  therefore,  added  that  of  Often* 
tation^  for  a  fourth?  For  in  what  doth  the  exhor- 
tatory  Manner  confift  ?  In  being  able  to  fhow 
to  one  and  all,  the  Contradictions  in  which 
they  are  involved  ;  and  that  they  care  for  every 
thing  rather  than  what  they  mean  to  care  for  :  for 
they  mean  the  Things  conducive  to  Happinefs  \  but 
they  feek  them  where  they  are  not  to  be  found.  To 
efFedl  this,  muft  a  thoufand  Seats  be  placed,  and 
an  Audience  invited  ;  and  you,  in  a  fine  Robe,  or 
Cloke,  afcend  the  Roftrum,  and  defcribe  the  Death 
of  Achilles?  Forbear,  for  Heaven's  fake,  to  bring, 
as  far  as  you  are  able,  good  Words  and  Pradices 
into  Difgrace.  Nothing,  to  be  fure,  gives  more 
Force  to  Exhortation,  than  when  the  Speaker  fhows, 
that  he  hath  need  of  the  Hearers  !  But  tell  me,  who, 
when  he  hears  you  reading,  or  fpeaking  is  folicitous 
about  himfelf  f  Or  turns  his  Attention  upon  himfelf  ? 
Or  fays,  when  he  is  gone  away,  "  The  Philofb- 
"  pher  hit  me  well."  Inflead  of  this,  even  though 
you  are  in   high  Vogue,  is  not  all  that  one   Man 

fays;  "He  fpoke  finely  about  Xerxes^-- "No, 

''  fays  another ;  but  on  the  Battle  o^  TbermopyU.** 
Is  this  the  Audience  of  a  Philofopher  ? 


CHAP 


274  ^/-'^   Discourses  (?/         Book  lH. 

CHAPTER    XXIV. 

That  we  ought  not  to  be  affeuled,  by  nings  not  in  our 
own  Power, 

§.  I.  T  ET  not  what  is  contrary  to  Nature  in  an- 
jLj  other,  be  an  Evil  to  you :  for  you  were 
not  born  to  be  deprefTed,  and  unhappy,  along  with 
others ;  but  to  be  happy,  along  with  them.  And, 
if  any  one  is  unhappy,  remember,  that  he  is  fo  for 
himfelf :  for  God  made  all  Men  to  enjoy  Felicity, 
and  a  fettled  good  Condition.  He  hath  furnifhed 
all  with  Means  for  this  Purpofe  ;  having  given  them 
fome  'Things  for  their  own  ;  others,  not  for  their 
own.  Whatever  is  fubjed  to  Reftraint,  Compul- 
fion,  or  Deprivation,  not  their  own  :  whatever  is 
not  fubjed  to  Rellraint,  their  own.  And  the  Ef^ 
fence  of  Good  and  Evil,  he  hath  placed  in  Things 
which  are  our  own  -,  as  it  became  Him,  who  pro- 
vides for,  and  proteds  us,  with  paternal  Care. 

But  I  have  parted  with  fuch  a  one,  and  he  is  in 
Grief 

And  why  did  he  efbeem  what  belonged  to  ano- 
ther, his  own  ?  Why  did  he  not  confider,  while 
he  was  pleafed  with  feeing  you,  that  you  are  mor- 
tal, that  you  are  fubjed  to  change  your  Abode  I 
Therefore  he  bears  the  Punifhment  of  his  own  Fol- 
ly. But  to  what  Purpofe,  or  for  wliat  Caufe  do  you 
too  break  (j)  your  Spirits  ?  Have  not  you  neither 
fludied  thefe  Things  ?  But,  like  trifling,  filly  Wo- 
men, confidered  the  Things  you  delighted  in  ;  the 
Places,  the  Perfons,  the  Converfations,  as  if  they 
were  to  lafl  for  ever  j  and  now  fit  crying,  becaufe 

you 

(a)  There  is  no  need  o{  Salmajius^&  Change  of  avrt  t**©?,  ^c, 
to  avTiT£ueij,  i^c.  if,  for  j^rt  t»  xA««,  one  reads  ewj^^a"?.  The  ti 
might  arile  irom  a  Miftake  in  writing  ^rt  twice  over.  Evejc^cca-ev 
is  uled  in  the  fame  Senfe,  in  L.  3.  c.  26.  p.  527.  of  Mr.  Upton's 
Edition.     If  xhduf  hath  it,  the  prefent  Reading  may  ftand. 


Chap.  24.      E  P  I  C  T  E'T  U  S.  275 

you  do  not  fee  the  fame  People,  nor  live  In  the  fame 
Place  ?  Indeed  you  deferve  to  be  fo  afFeded,  and 
thus  to  become  more  wretched  than  Ravens  or 
Crows;  which,  without  groaning,  or  longing  for 
their  former  State,  can  fly  where  they  will,  build 
their  Nefts  in  another  Place,  and  crofs  the  Seas. 

Ay  :  but  this  happens  from  their  Want  of  Rea- 
fon. 

Was  Reafbn  then  given  to  us  by  the  Gods,  for 
the  Purpofe  of  Unhappinefs  and  Mifery,  to  make 
us  live  wretched  and  lamenting  ?  O,  by  all  means, 
let  every  one  be  immortal !  Let  nobody  go  from 
home  !  Let  us  never  go  from  home  ourlelves,  but 
remain  rooted  to  a  Spot^  like  Plants  !  And,  if  any 
of  our  Acquaintance  fhould  quit  his  Abode,  let  us 
fit  and  cry  •,  and  when  he  comes  back,  let  us  dance, 
and  clap  our  Hands,  like  Children.  Shall  we  ne- 
ver wean  ourfelves,  and  remember  what  we  have 
heard  from  the  Philofophers,  (unlefs  we  have  heard 
them  only  as  juggling  Enchanters;)  That  the 
World  is  one  great  City,  and  the  Subflance  one, 
out  of  which  it  is  formed  :  that  there  mufl  necefTa- 
rily  be  a  certain  Rotation  of  Things :  that  fome 
muil  give  way  to  others ;  fome  be  diflblved,  and 
others  rife  in  their  ftead  :  fome  remain  in  the  fame 
Situation,  and  others  be  moved  :  but  that  all  is  full 
of  Friendlhip :  firft  of  the  Gods,  and  then  of  Men, 
by  Nature  endeared  to  each  other  :  that  fome  mull 
be  feparated  ;  others  live  together,  rejoicing  in  the 
Prefent,  and  not  grieving  for  the  Abfent :  and  that 
Man,  befides  a  natural  Greatnefs  of  Mind,  and 
Contempt  of  Things  independent  on  Choice,  is 
likewife  formed  not  to  be  rooted  to  the  Earth  :  but 
to  go  at  different  Times  to  different  Places  ;  fome- 
times  on  urgent  Occafions,  and  fometimes  merely 
for  the  fake  of  Obfervation.  Such  was  the  Cafe  of 
Uhjfes  j  who, 

T  z  Wan^ 


2*j6  ^be  Discourses  oJ        Book  IIL 

Vf^and' ring  from  Clime  to  Clime  ohfervant  firay*d^ 
^beir  Manners  noted^  and  their  States  furvey*d. 

Pope's  Odyff  I. 

And  yet,  before   him,  of  Hercules^  to  travel  over 
the  World, 

Jujl  and  unjuft  recording  in  bis  Mind^ 

And,  with  Jure  Eyes^  infpeEiing  all  Mankind. 

Pope's  OdyiT.  XVII.  v.  580. 

To  expel  and  clear  away  the  one,  and,  in  its  flead, 
to  introduce  the  other.  Yet  how  many  Friends  do 
you  think  he  mud  have  at  '^Ibebes  ?  How  many  at 
Argos  ?  How  many  at  Athens  ?  And  how  many 
did  he  acquire  in  his  Travels  ?  He  married  too, 
when  he  thought  it  a  proper  Time,  and  became  a 
Father,  and  then  quitted  his  Children  ;  not  lament- 
ing and  longing  for  them,  nor  as  if  he  had  left  them 
Orphans  :  for  he  knew,  that  no  human  Creature  is 
an  Orphan  •,  but  that  there  is  a  Father,  who  always 
and  without  Intermiilion,  takes  care  of  all.  For 
he  had  not  merely  heard  it,  as  Matter  of  Talk, 
that  Jupiter  was  the  Father  of  Mankind ;  but  he 
efteemed  and  called  him  his  ov/n  Father,  and  per- 
formed all  that  he  did,  with  a  View  to  Him. 
Hence,  he  was,  in  every  Place,  able  to  live  happy. 
But  it  is  never  pollible  to  make  Happinefs  confift- 
ent  with  a  Defire  of  what  is  not  prefent.  For  (h) 
what  is  happy  muft  have  all  it  wilhes  for  ;  mufl 
refemble  a  Perfon  fatisfied  with  Food:  there  muft 
be  no  Thirfl,  no  Hanger. 

But  Ulyjjes  longed  for  his  Wife,  and  fat  crying 
on  a  Rock. 

Why:  do  you  mind  Homer  ^  and  his  Fables,  in 
every  thing  .^  Or,  if  Ulyffes  really  did  cry,  what 
was  he,  but  a  wretched  Man  ?     But  what  wife  and 

good 

(h)  To  yap  sy^a./tAonouv  amtyiw  Jk*  irocvroc  oC  0£^£^,  9rt<7r>>v)fUfM£tu  rm 
tQiKtvai.  This  bears  a  Ilrong  Refemblance  to  wTrtx"  ^«  Trunet  xat 
niftP'ffivu,  Tn^Twi^u^MHf   iffc,     Phil.  iv.  1 8. 


Chap.  24.      E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  277 

good  Man  is  wretched  ?  The  tjniverfe  is  furely 
but  ill  governed,  uniefs  Jupiter  takes  care,  that  his 
Subjeds  may  be  happy  like  himfelf.  But  thefe  are' 
unlawful  and  profane  Thoughts ;  and  Ulyffes^  if  he 
did  indeed  cry  and  bewail  himfelf,  was  not  a  good 
Man.  For  who  can  be  a  good  Man,  who  doth 
not  know  what  he  is  ?  And  who  knows  this,  and 
forgets,  that  all  Things  made  are  perifhable  ;  and 
that  it  is  not  pollible  for  iMan  and  Man  always  to 
live  together  ?  What  then  ?  Todefire  Impollibi- 
lities  IS  bafe  and  fooliili :  it  is  the  Behaviour  of  a 
(c)  Stranger  [to  the  World]  ;  of  one  who  lights 
againft  God,  the  only  way  he  can,  by  his  Prin- 
ciples. 

But  my  Mother  grieves,  when  fhe  doth  not 
fee  me. 

And  why  hath  not  fhe  learnt  thefe  Dodrines  ? 
I  do  not  fay,  that  Care  ought  not  to  be  taken  that 
fhe  may  not  lament;  but  that  we  are  not  to  wifh 
abfolutely,  v^^hat  is  not  in  our  own  Power.  Now, 
the  Grief  of  another  is  not  in  our  Power  ;  but  my 
own  Grief  is.  1  will  therefore  abfolutely  fupprefs 
my  own,  for  that  is  in  my  Power  ;  and  I  will  en- 
deavour to  fupprefs  another's  Grief,  as  far  as  i  am 
able  :  but  I  will  not  endeavour  it  abfolutely,  other- 
wile  I  fhall  fight  againft  God  ;  I  fhall  refill  Jupiter^ 
and  oppofe  him,  in  the  Adminiflration  of  the  Uni- 
verfe.  And  not  only  my  (d)  Children's  Children 
will  bear  the  Punifhment  of  this  Difobedience,  and 
Fighting  againft  God,  but  I  myfclf  too ;  ftarting, 
and  full  of  Perturbation,  both  in  the  Day  time,  and 
in  my  Dreams  by  Night ;  trembling  at  every  Mef- 
fage,  and  having  my  {e)  Enjoyment  dependent  on 
T  3  the 

(c)  The  Greek  fhould  be  pointed,  ^ly^v^  QfO(A>otxovno(;. 

(d)  An  Allufion  to  Homer. 

(e)  The  Tranflarion  here  follows  a  C,ohje6lure  of  Wolfim ; 
who  reads,  for  ivmi\!^i\a.v,  tvTrx^nccv.  The  fame  Word  occurs  in 
B.  IV.  c.  3.  p.  $82.  of  Mr.  Upton's  Edition  ;  and  is  there  tran- 
Hated  in  the  Tame  manner. 


i*]^  The  Discou  RSES  of         Book  III. 

the  Intelligence  of  others.  "  Somebody  is  come 
*'  from  Rome:'  "  No  Harm,  I  hope.'"  Why, 
what  Harm  can  happen  to  you,  where  you  are  not  ? 

''  From  Greece^     "  No  Harm,  I   hope/' 

Why,  at  this  Rate,  every  Place  may  be  the  Caufc 
of  Misfortune  to  you.  Is  it  not  enough  for  you  to 
be  unfortunate  where  you  are,  but  it  muft  be  be- 
yond Sea  too,  and  by  Letters  ?  Such  is  the  Secu- 
rity of  your  Condition ! 

But  what  if  my  Friends  there  fhould  be  dead  ? 

What  indeed,  but  that  thofe  are  dead,  who  were 
born  to  die.  Do  you  at  once  wifh  to  live  to  be  old, 
and  yet  not  to  fee  the  Death  of  any  one  you  love.? 
Do  not  you  know,  that,  in  a  long  Courfe  of  Time, 
many  and  various  Events  muft  neceflarily  happen  ? 
That  a  Fever  muft  get  the  better  of  one  -,  a  High- 
wayman, of  another ;  a  Tyrant,  of  a  third  ^  For 
fuch  is  the  World  we  live  in  ;  fuch  they  who  live  in 
it  with  us.  Heats  and  Colds,  improper  Diet,  Jour- 
nies,  Voyages,  Winds,  and  various  Accidents  de- 
ftroy  fome,  banifti  others;  deftine  one  to  an  Em- 
bafly,  another  to  a  Camp.  And  now,  pray,  fit  in 
a  Flutter  about  all  thefe  Thingt ;  lamenting,  dif- 
appointed,  wretched,  dependent  on  another ;  and 
that  not  one  or  two,  but  ten  thoufand  times  ten 
thoufand, 

§.  2.  Is  this  what  you  have  heard  from  the  Phi- 
lofophers  }  This  what  you  have  learnt  ^  Do  not 
you  know  (f)  v/hat  fort  of  a  Thing  a  Warfare  is .? 
One  muft  keep  Guard  ;  another  go  out  for  a  Spy  ; 
another,  to  Battle  too.  It  is  neither  pollible,  that 
all  fhould  be  in  the  fame  Place,  nor  indeed  better  : 
but  you,  negleding  to  perform  the  Orders  of  your 
General,  complain,  whenever  any  thing  a  little  hard 
is  commanded  ;  and  4o  not  confider  what  you  make 
the  Army  become,  as  far  as  lies  in  your  Power. 

For, 

(/)  The  Tranflatlon  here  fqllaws  Mr.  Vpton\  Conjedure, 
in  his  Adcunda, 


Chap.  24.-       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  279 

For,  if  all  fhould  imitate  you,  nobody  will  dig  a 
Trench,  or  throw  up  a  Rampart,  or  watch,  or 
expofe  himfelf  to  Danger;  but  everyone  will  ap- 
pear ufelefs  to  the  Expedition.  Again  :  if  you 
were  a  Sailor  in  a  Voyage,  fix  upon  one  Place,  and 
there  remain.  If  it  fhould  be  necellary  to  climb 
the  Maft,  refufe  to  do  it ;  if  to  run  to  the  Head  of 
the  Ship,  refufe  to  do. it.  And  what  Captain  will 
bear  you  ?  Would  not  he  throw  you  over  board, 
as  a  ufelefs  Piece  of  Goods,  and  mere  Luggage,  and 
a  bad  Example  to  the  other  Sailors .?  Thus  alio, 
in  the  prefent  Cafe  :  everyone's  Life  is  afj;)  War- 
fare, and  that  long  and  various.  You  mud  ob- 
ferve  the  Duty  of  a  Soldier,  and  perform  every 
thing,  at  the  Nod  of  your  .General ;  and  even,  if 
poflible,  divine  what  he  would  have  done.  For 
there  is  no  Comparifon  between  the  above-menti- 
oned General  and  This,  either  in  Power,  or  Excel- 
lence of  CharaAer.  You  are  placed  in  an  extenfive 
Command,  and  not  in  a  mean  Pofl ;  but  you  are  a 
Senator  (h) :  Do  not  you  know,  that  fuch  a  one 
mufl  fpend  but  little  Time  on  his  Affairs  at  home; 
but  be  much  abroad,  either  commanding  or  obey- 
ing ;  attending  on  the  Duties  either  of  a  Magiftrate, 
a  Soldier,  or  a  Judge.  And  now  pray,  would 
you  be  fixed  and  rooted  to  the  fame  Spot,  like  a 
Plant  P 

Why  :  it  is  pleafant. 

Who  denies  it }  And  fo  is  a  Ragout  pleafant ; 
and  a  fine  Woman  is  pleafant.  Is  not  thisjufl  what 
They  fay  who  make  Pleafure  their  End  ?  Do  not 
YOU  perceive  whofe  Language  you  have  fpoken  ? 
^  T  4  That 

(g)  This  Figure  is  frequently  ufed  both  by  facred  and  profane 
Authors.  See  Job  vii.  i.  Eph.  vi.  12.  i  Pet.n.  11,  &c. 
Vivere  militare  eft.     Lije  is  a  State  of  War.    Sen.  Epift.  96,  &c. 

[h)  Inllead  of  A^X,  an  B»X£t;Tu?,  the  true  Reading,  perhaps, 
is,  AAXa  St  BaAstrrTj?;  and  it  is  tranflated  accordingly. 


iSo  *Tke  Discourses    of       Book  III. 

That  of  Epicureans  and  Catamites.  And  while  you 
follow  their  Pradices,  and  hold  their  Principles,  dp 
you  talk  to  us  of  the  Doctrines  of  Zeno  and  Socra- 
Irs  ?  Why  do  not  you  throw  away,  to  as  great  a 
Diftance  as  poflible,  thofe  Ornaments  which  belong 
to  others,  and  which  you  have  nothing  to  do  with  ? 
What  elfe  do  the  Epicuream  defire,  than  to  fleep 
without  Hindrance,  and  rife  (i)  without  Compul- 
fion ;  and,  when  they  are  got  up,  to  yawn  at  their 
leifure,  and  walh  their  Face  ;  then  write  and  read 
what  they  pleafe  ;  then  prate  about  fome  Trifle  or 
other,  and  be  applauded  by  their  Friends,  whate- 
ver they  fay :  then  go  out  for  a  Walk  ;  and,  after 
they  have  taken  a  Turn,  bathe,  and  then  eat; 
and  then  to  Bed  :  in  what  manner  they  fpent  their 
Time  there,  why  fhquld  one  lay  ?  For  it  u  eaGly 
guelTed.  Come:  now  do  you  alfo  tell  me,  vvhat 
Courfe  of  Life  you  defire  to  lead,  -a  ho  aie  a  Zealot 
for  Truth,  and  Diogenes^  ai.d  Socrare  ?  What 
would  you  do  2Lt  Athens?  Thefe  very  iame  Things? 
Why  then  do  you  call  youriclf  a  Stoic?  They 
who  falfely  pretend  to  the  Roman  Citizenfhip,  are 
punifhed  fevere^y  :  and  mufl  thofe  be  difmifled  with 
Impunity,  who  falfely  claim  fo  great  a  Thing,  and 
lb  venerable  a  Title,  as  you  do  ?  Or  is  this  impof- 
fible  -,  and  is  there  not  a  divine,  and  powerful,  and 
inevitable  Law,  which  exadls  the  greatefl:  Punifli- 
ments  from  thofe,  who  are  guilty  of  the  greatefl 
Offences  ?  For  what  fays  this  Law  ?  Let  him 
who  claims  what  doth  not  belong  to  him^  be  arrogant^ 
he  vain-glorious^  be  bafe^  be  a  Slave  :  let  him  grieve^ 
let  hm  envy^  let  him  pity ;  and^  in  a  wordy  let  htm 
he  unhappy^  let  him  Ir.ment. 

§.  3.  {k)  W^hat  then  !  would  you  have  me  pay 
my  Court  to  fuch  a  one  ?  Would  you  have  me 
frequent  his  Door  ? 

If 

(i)  The  Conjefture  of  Wolfui  («Mfar>ji'ai)  Is  a  good  one  ;  and 
the  Tranflation  hath  followed  it. 

[k]  What  follows  hath  no  Connexion  with  what  immediately 
preceded;   but  belongs  to  the  general  Subject  of  the  Chapter. 


Chap.  24.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  281 

If  Reafon  requires  it,  for  your  Country,  for  your 
Relations,  for  iMankind,  why  fhould  you  not  go  ? 
You  are  not  afhamed  to  go  to  the  Door  of  a  Siioe  • 
maker,  when  you  want  Shoes;  nor  of  a  Gardener, 
when  you  want  Lettuce.  Why  then  of  the  Rich^ 
when  you  have  fome  fimilar  Want  ? 

Ay  :  but  I  am  not  Itruck  with  Awe  of  a  Shoe- 
maker. 

Nor  of  a  rich  Man  neither. 

I  need  not  flatter  a  Gardener. 

Nor  a  rich  Man  neither. 

How  then  lliall  I  get  what  I  want  ? 

Why,  do  I  bid  you  go,  in  Expedation  o^ getting 
it  .^  No :  only  that  you  may  do  what  becomeS' 
yourfelf 

Why  then,  after  all,  fnould  I  go  ? 

That  you  may  have  gone ;  that  you  may  have 
difcharged  the  Duties  of  a  Citizen,  of  a  Brother,  of 
a  Friend.  And,  after  all,  remember,  that  you  are 
going  to  a  Shoemaker,  to  a  Gardener,  who  hath  not 
the  Power  of  any  thing  great  or  refpedtable,  though 
he  fhould  fell  it  ever  fo  dear.  You  are  going  to  buy 
Lettuces.  They  are  fold  for  a  Penny,  not  for  a 
Talent.  So  here  too,  the  Matter  is  worth  going 
to  his  Door  about.  Well :  I  will  go.  It  is  worth 
talking  with  him  about  (I).  Well :  I  will  talk  with 
him. 

Ay  :  but  one  mufh  kifs  his  Hand  too,  and  cajole 
him  with  Praife. 

Away  with  you.  That  is  worth  a  Talent,  ft  is 
not  expedient  for  m.yfelf,  nor  my  Country,  nor 
my  fellow  Ciuzens,  nor  my  Friends,  to  dellroy  the 

good 

(/)  The  Change  of  the  Perfons  in  thefe  Dlfcourfes  is  often  fo 
fudden,  that  it  is  difficult  to  difcover  the  Speaker  j  and  one  can 
judge  only  from  the  general  Senfe.  The  Tranflator  hath  en- 
deavoured to  give  this  Paffage  the  Turn  which  feems  moll  agree- 
able to  the  Context,  without  adhering  very  literally  to  the  fevc- 
ral  Words  in  the  Greek.  Epi^ietus,  in  this  Paragraph,  perfo- 
nates  the  Scholar,  whom  he  is  exhorting  to  vifit  a  great  Man, 


282  ne  Discourses  of       Book  III. 

good  Citizen,  and  the  Friend  [in  my  own  Cha- 
rader.] 

But  one  fhall  appear  not  to  have  fet  heartily  a- 
bout  the  Bufinefs,  if  one  fails. 

What,  have  you  forgot  again,  why  you  went  ? 
Do  not  you  know,  that  a  wife  and  good  Man  doth 
nothing  for  Appearance  ;  but  for  the  fake  of  having 
aded  well  ? 

What  Advantage  then  is  it  to  him,  to  have  adled 
well  ? 

What  Advantage  is  it  to  one,  who  writes  the 
Name  of  Dion  as  he  ought  ?     The  having  writ  it. 

Is  there  no  Reward  then  ? 

Why  :  do  you  feek  any  greater  Reward,  for  a 
good  Man,  than  the  doing  what  is  fair  and  juft  ? 
And  yet,  at  Olympia^  you  defire  nothing  elfe ;  but 
think  it  enough,  to  be  crowned  Vidtor.  Doth  it 
appear  to  you  fo  fmall  and  worthlefs  a  Thing,  to  be 
fair,  good  and  happy  ?  Befides  :  being  introduced 
by  God  into  this  great  City,  [the  World,]  and 
bound  to  difcharge,  at  this  time,  the  Duties  of  a 
Man,  do  you  flill  want  Nurfes  and  a  Mamma ; 
and  are  you  {m)  moved  and  effeminated  by  the 
Tears  of  poor  foolifh  Women  ?  Are  you  thus 
determined  never  to  ceafe  being  an  Infant  ?  Do 
not  you  know,  that  he  who  ads  like  a  Child,  the 
older  he  is,  fo  much  is  he  the  more  ridiculous  ? 

§.  4.  («)  Did  you  never  vifitany  one  at  Athens^  at 
his  own  Houfe  ? 

Yes :  whomfoever  I  pleafed. 

Why :  now  you  are  here,  be  willing  to  vifit  this 
Perfon,  and  you  will  flill  fee  whom  you  pleafe  ; 
only  let  it  be  without  Meannefs,  without  Defire,  or 
Averfion,  and  your  Affairs  will  go  well :  but  their 
going  well,  or  not,  doth  not  confift  in  going  to  the 

Houfe, 

{m)  This  refers  to  a  former  Part  of  the  Chapter. 
(»)  Here,  what  was  faid  before,  about  going  to  a 
IS  again  refumed 


going  to  a  great  Mao, 


Chap.  24.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  ^2^ 

Hou(e,  and  Handing  at  the  Door,  or  not ;  but  lies 
within,  in  your  own  Principles  -,  when  you  have  ac- 
quired a  Contempt  of  Things  independent  on 
Choice,  and  efteem  none  of  them  your  own  ;  but 
that  what  belongs  to  you  is  only  to  judge,  to  think, 
to  exert  your  Purfuits,  your  Defires,  and  Averfions, 
right.  What  further  Room  is  there,  after  this,  for 
Flattery,  for  Meannefs  ?  Why  do  you  ftill  long 
for  the  Quiet  you  enjoyed  there  {0) ;  for  Places  fa- 
miliar to  you  ^  Stay  a  little,  and  thefe  will  become 
familiar  to  you,  in  their  Turn  ;  and  then,  if  you 
are  fo  mean-fpirited,  weep  and  lament  again  at 
>  leaving  thefe. 

How  then  am  I  to  preferve  an  affedtionate  Tem- 
per j* 

As  becomes  a  noble-fpirited  and  happy  Perfon. 
For  Reafon  will  never  tell  you  to  be  dejedled,  and 
broken-hearted;  or  to  depend  on  another ;  or  to 
reproach  either  God,  or  Man.  Be  affeiftionate  in 
fuch  a  manner  as  to  obferve  all  this.  But  if,  from 
Affe5fion^  as  you  call  it,  you  are  to  be  a  Slave,  and 
a  Wretch,  it  is  not  worth  your  while  to  be  affecti- 
onate. And  what  reftrains  you  from  loving  any 
one  as  a  Mortal,  as  a  Perfon  who  may  be  obliged 
to  quit  you  ?  Pray  did  not  Socrates  love  his  own 
Children  ?  But  it  was  as  became  one,  who  was 
free,  and  mindful  that  his  firft  Duty  was,  to  gain 
the  Love  of  the  Gods.  Hence  he  violated  no  Part 
ef  the  Charader  of  a  good  Man,  either  in  his  De- 
fence, or  in  fixing  a  Penalty  on  himfelf  (p).     Nor 

yet 

(0)  At  j^thens. 

[p]  It  was  the  Cuftom  at  Athem^  in  Cafes  where  no  fixed 
Punilhment  was  appointed  by  the  Law,  before  the  Judges 
gave  Sentence,  to  aflc  the  Criminal  himfelf,  what  Penalty  he 
thought  he  deferved.  Socrates  refufed  either  to  comply  with 
this  Form  himfelf,  or  fuffer  any  of  his  Friends  to  do  it  for  him  ; 
alleging,  that  the  naming  a  Penalty,  was  a  ConfefTion  of  Guilt, 
When  the  Judges  therefore  alked  him,  what  Penalty  he  thought 
he  deferved,  he  anfwered,  **  The  higheft  Honours,  and  Re^ 

**  w^rds  ; 


2?4  ^^^  Discourses  of        Book  III. 

yet  before,  when  he  was  a  Senator,  or  a  Soldier. 
But  we  make  ufe  of  every  Pretence  to  be  mean- 
fpirited  j  fome,  on  Account  of  a  Child ;  fome,  of 
a  iMother  ^  and  fome,  of  a  Brother.  But  it  is  not  fit 
to  be  unhappy,  on  the  Account  of  any  one-,  but 
happy,  on  the  Account  of  All  •,  and  chiefly  of  God, 
who  hath  conftituted  us  for  this  Purpofe.  What ! 
did  Diogenes  love  nobody  ;  who  was  fo  gentle,  and 
benevolent,  as  chearfully  to  undergo  fo  many 
Pains  and  Miteries  of  Body,  for  the  common  Good 
of  Mankind  ?  Yes :  he  did  love  them  i  but  how  ? 
As  became  a  Minifler  of  Jove\  at  once  taking  care 
of  Men,  and  obedient  to  God.  Hence  the  whole 
Earth,  not  any  particular  Place,  was  his  Country. 
And,  when  he  was  taken  Captive,  he  did  not  long 
for  /Athens ^  and  his  Friends  and  Acquaintance  there  ; 
but  made  hi mfelf  acquainted  with  the  Pirates,  and 
endeavoured  to  reform  them ;  and,  when  he  was 
at  laft  fold,  he  lived  at  Corinth^  juft  as  before 'at 
Athens  :  and,  if  he  had  gone  to  the  Perrbabeans  {q)^ 
he  would  have  been  exadly  the  fame.  Thus  is 
Freedom  acquired.  Hence  he  ufed  to  fay,  ''  Ever 
"  fmce  Antijibenes  made  me  free  ("r),  I  have  ceafed 
"  to  be  a  Slave,'*  How  did  he  make  him  free  } 
Hear  what  he  fays.  "  He  taught  me  what  was 
"  my  own,  and  what  not.  An  Eftate  is  not  my 
"  own.  Kindred,  Domeflics,  Friends,  Reputati- 
"  on,  familiar  Places,  Manner  of  Life,  all  belong 
*'  to'  another."  '*  What  is  your  own  then  V 
"  The  Ufe  of  the  Appearances  of  Things.  He 
*'  (howed  me,  that  I  have  /i/i,  not  fubjed  to  Re- 

''  flraint, 

**  wards;  and  to  be  maintained  in  the  Prytaneumy  at  the  pub- 
**  lie  Expence."  An  Anfwer  which  fo  extremely  irritated  his 
fudges,  that  they  immediately  condemned  him  to  Death. 
Plato.     Cicero. 

(y)  A  People  towards  the  Extremity  ofCreece. 

V)  C>iogfties  wzs  the.  Dikiple  of  ^^tifihenes.  Compare  what 
Diogenes  fays  of  Antifihtnes  making  him  free,  with  'John  viii. 
32 36.' 


Chap.  24.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  2^^ 

*'  ftraint,  or  Cbmpulfion  :  no  one  can  hinder  or 
*'  force  me  to  ufe  them,  any  otherwife  than  1  pleafe. 
''  Who  then,  after  this,  hath  any  Power  over  me  ? 
"  Philips  or  A!e>:andery  or  Perdiccas^  or  the  Perfian 
''  King  ?  Whence  lliould  they  have  it  ?  For  he 
"  that  is  to  be  fubdued  by  Man,  muft,  long  before, 
"  be  fubdued  by  Things.  He  therefore,  of  whom 
"  neither  Pleafure,  nor  Pain,  nor  Fame,  nor 
"  Riches,  can  get  the  better ;  and  who  is  able, 
"  whenever  he  thinks  fir,  to  throw  away  his  whole 
*'  Body,  with  Contempt,  and  depart,  whofe  Slave 
"  can  he  ever  be  ?  To  whom  is  he  fubjed  ?"  But 
if  Diogenes  had  taken  Pleafure  in  living  at  Athens^ 
and  had  been  fubdued  by  that  Manner  of  Life,  his 
Affairs  would  have  been  at  every  one's  Difpofal ; 
and  whoever  was  ftronger,  would  have  had  the 
Power  of  grieving  him.  How  would  he  have  flat- 
tered the  Pirates,  think  you,  to  make  them  fell  him 
to  fome  Athenian^  that  he  might  fee  again  the  fine 
Piraum^  the  long  Walls,  and  the  Citadel  ?  How 
would  you  fee  them,  you  Wretch  ?  As  a  difpirit- 
ed  Slave.     And  what  Good  would  that  do  you  ? — 

''  No :  but  free." Shov/  in  what  manner,  free. 

See,  fomebody  lays  hold  on  you ;  whoever  takes 
you  away  from  your  ufual  Manner  of  Life,  and 
fays,  "  You  are  my  Slave :  for  it  is  in  my 
*'  Power  to  reflrain  you  from  living  as  you  like.  It 
"  is  in  my  Power  to  f  j)  afflid  and  humble  yoiL 
*'  Whenever  I  pleafe,  you  may  be  chearful  again  ; 
*'  and  fet  out,  elated,  {ox  Athens''  What  do  you 
fay  to  him  who  thus  enflaves  you  ?  What  Method 
will  you  find  of  getting  free  ?  Or  dare  you  not  fo 
much  as  look  up  at  him  ;  but,  without  making 
many  Words,  fupplicate  to  be  difmilled  i*  You 
ought  to  go  to  Prifon,  Man,  with  Alacrity,  with 
Speed,  and  to  precede  your  Condudors.     Inltead 

of 

(i)  Inftead  of  ayfiva*,  the  Senfe  feems  to  require  «*♦«■» ;  and  it 

is  fo  tranflated. 


2S6  The  D  1  SC6V  R^  Es  of        Book  III 

of  this^  do  you  regret  living  at  Rome,  and  long  for 
Greece  P  And,  when  you  muft  die,  will  youthen 
too  come  crying  to  us,  that  you  fhall  no  more  fee 
j^tbefJSy  nor  walk  in  the  Lyceum  ?  Have  you  tra- 
velled for /i?/j .?  Is  it  for /^/j,  that  you  have  been 
feeking  for  fomebody  to  do  you  Good  ?  What 
Good  ?  That  you  may  the  more  eafily  folve  Syl- 
logifms,  and  manage  hypothetical  Arguments  t 
And  is  it  for  this  Reafon,  you  left  your  Brother, 
your  Country,  your  Friends,  your  Family,  that 
you  might  carry  back  fuch  Improvements  as  thefe  ? 
So  that  you  did  not  travel  for  Conftancy,  nor  for 
Tranquillity;  nor  that,  fecured  from  Harm,  you 
might  complain  of  no  one,  accufe  no  one  :  that  no 
one  might  injure  you  ;  and  that  thus  you  might  pre- 
ferve  your  relative  Duties,  without  Impediment. 
You  have  made  a  fine  Traffic  of  it,  to  carry  home 
hypothetical  Arguments,  and  convertible  Propor- 
tions!  If  you  pleafe  too,  fit  in  the  Market,  and 
cry  tliem  for  Sale,  as  Mountebanks  do  their  Me- 
dicines, Why  will  you  not  rather  deny,  that  you 
know  even  what  you  have  learned  ;  for  fear  of  bring- 
ing a  Scandal  upon  Theorems  as  ufelefs?  What  Harm 
hath  Philofophy  done  you  ?  In  what  hath  Chry- 
fippus  injured  you,  that  you  fhould  give  a  Proof, 
by  your  Adions,  that  Philofophy  is  of  no  Value  ? 
Had  you  not  Evils  enough  at  home  ?  How  many 
Caufes  for  Grief  and  Lamentation  had  you  there, 
even  if  you  had  not  travelled  ?  But  you  have  ad- 
ded more  ;  and,  if  you  ever  get  any  new  Acquain- 
tance and  Friends,  you  will  find  frefh  Caufes  for 
groaning  \  and,  in  like  manner,  if  you  attach  your- 
felf  to  any  other  Country.  To  what  Purpofe  there- 
fore do  you  live  ?  To  heap  Sorrow  upon  Sorrow, 
to  make  you  wretched  ?  And  then  you  tell  me 
this  is  Affc^ion.  What  AfFedtion,  Man  ?  If  it  be 
good,  it  is  not  the  Caufe  of  any  III :  if  ill,  I  will 
have  nothing  to  do  with  it.  I  was  born  for  my  own 
Good  i  not  111 

§.5. 


Chap.  24.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  287 

§.  5.What  then  is  the  proper  Exercife  in  this  Cafe? 

Firfl,  the  highefl,  and  principal,  and  obvious,  as 
it  were  at  your  Door,  is,  that  when  you  attach  your- 
felf  to  any  thing,  it  may  not  be  as  to  what  cannot 
be  taken  away. 

But  as  to  what  ? 

As  to  fomething  of  the  fame  kind  with  an  earthen 
Pot,  or  a  glafs  Cup  ;  that,  when  it  happens  to  be 
broken,  you  may  remember  not  to  be  troubled  ij). 
So  here  too :  when  you  kifs  your  Child,  or  your 
Brother,  or  your  Friend,  never  intirely  give  way 
to  the  Appearance,  nor  fuflfer  the  Pleafure  to  dif- 
fufe  itfelf  as  far  as  it  will ;  but  curb  it,  reftrain  it, 
like  thofe  who  fland  behind  triumphant  Vidors,  and 
remind  them,  that  they  are  men.  Do  you  likewife 
remind  yourfelf,  that  you  love  what  is  mortal ;  that 
you  love  what  is  not  your  own.  It  is  allowed  you 
for  the  prefent,  not  irrevocably,  nor  for  ever  ;  but 
as  a  Fig,  or  a  Bunch  of  Grapes,  in  the  appointed 
Seafon.  If  you  long  for  thefe  in  Winter,  you  are 
a  Fool.  So,  if  you  long  for  your  Son,  or  your  Friend, 
when  he  is  not  allowed  you,  knov/,  you  wifh  for 
Figs  in  Winter.  For  as  Winter  is  to  a  Fig,  fo  is  eve- 
ry Acccident  in  the  Univerfe,  to  thofe  Things  which 
are  taken  away  by  it.  In  the  next  place,  reprefent 
to  yourfelf  Appearances  contrary  to  (u)  whatever 
Objeds  give  you  Pleafure.  What  Harm  is  there, 
while  you  are  killing  your  Child,  to  fay  foftly,  ''  To- 
''  morrow  you  will  die:"  and  fo  to  your  Friend, 
"  To-morrow  either  you  or  I  fhall  go  away,  and  we 
**  Ihall  fee  each  other  no  more." 

But  thefe  Sayings  are  ominous. 

And  fo  are  fome  Incantations :  but,  becaufe  they 
are  uleful,  I  do  not  mind  it  •,  only  let  them  be  ufe- 
ful.  But  do  you  call  any  ihingominous^  except  what 
is  the  Signification  of  fome  111  ?  Cowardice  is  omi- 
nous ',  Mean-fpiritednefs  is  ominous  -,  Lamentation, 

Grief, 

(/)  See  Enchiridioriy  C.  iii. 

{u)  The  Tianflation  here  follows   Mr.  Uptons  Conjedirc, 


288  The  Discourses  of        Book  111. 

Grief,  Want  of  Shame.  Thefe  are  Words  of  bad 
Omen ;  and  yet  we  ought  not  to  be  icrupulous  of 
iifing  them,  as  a  Guard  againft  the  Things  they 
mean.  But  do  you  tell  me,  that  a  Word  is  omincus 
which  is  figniiicant  of  any  thing  natural  ?  Say  too, 
that  it  is  ominoiiSy  for  Ears  of  Corn  to  be  reaped  ; 
for  this  fignifies  the  Dellrudion  of  the  Corn  ;  but 
not  of  the  World.  Say  too,  that  the  Fall  of  the 
Leaf  is  ommous  ;  and  that  a  candied  Mafs  (hould  be 
produced  from  Figs;  and  Raifms,  from  Grapes. 
For  all  thefe  are  changes  from  a  former,  into  ano- 
ther State ;  not  a  Deflruclion,  but  a  certain  ap- 
pointed Oeconomy  and  x^dm.inirtration.  Such  is 
Abfence,  a  fmall  Change :  fuch  is  Death,  a  greater 
Change:  not  from  what  now  is  nothing,  but  to 
what  now  is  not. 

(w)  What  then,  fhall  I  be  no  more  ? 
You  will  be  :  but  [you  will  be]  fome  thing  elfe, 
of  which,  at  prefent,  the  World  hath  no  Need  :  for 
even  you  were  not  produced  when  you  pleafed,  but 
when  the  World  had  Need  [of  you.]  Hence 
a  wife  and  good  Man,  mindful  who  he  is,  and 
whence  he  came,  and  by  whom  he  was  produced, 
is  attentive  only  how  he  may  fill  his  Poft  regularly, 
and  dutifully  to  God.  ''  fs  it  thy  Pleafure  1  fhould 
"  any  longer  continue  in  being  ?  I  will  continue, 
*'  free,  fpirited,  agreeably  to  thy  Pleafure :  for 
'*  Thou  hall  made  me  incapable  of  Reflraint,  in 
*'  what  is  my  own.  But  haft  Thou  no  farther  Ufe 
*'  for  me  .?  Fare  thou  well !  I  have  flaid  thus  long 
''  for  thy  Sake  alone,  and  no  other  ;  and  now  I 
**  depart  in  Obedience  to  Ihee."-— '*  How  do 

"  you  depart  ?" **  Again  :  agreeably  to  thy 

*'  Pleafure  ;  as  free,  as  thy  Servant,  as  one  fenfible 
"  of  thy  Commands,  and  thy  Prohibitions.     But, 

"  while 
{au)  The  Tranflation  follows  Mr.  Uptons  Tranrpofition  of  avx. 
The  Meaning  of  the  Paflageis,  that,  though  the  perfonal  Exi- 
ftence  is  diflblved,  and  deiiroyed  by  Death,  the  Subftance,  out 
of  which  it  was  produced,  reraains,  under  fome  other  x'orin  ; 
which  was  the  Stoic  Doctrine. 


Chap.  24.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  289 

"  while  I  am  employed  in  thy  Service,  what  wouldfl 
*•  Thou  have  me  be  ?  A  Prince,  or  a  private 
"  Man  ;  a  Senator,  or  a  Plebeian  ;  a  Soldier,  or  a 
*'  General ;  a  Preceptor,  or  the  Mailer  of  a  Fami- 
"  ly  ?  Whatever  Poft  or  Rank  Thou  llialtadign 
*'  me,  like  Socrates^  I  will  die  a  tboafand  times  ra- 
"  ther  than  defert  it.  Where  wouldft  thou  have 
*'  me  be  P  At  liomc^  or  at  Athens  •,  at  Thebes^  or 
"  at  Gyaros  ?  Only  remember  me  there.  If  Thou 
"  fhalt  fend  me,  where  Men  cannot  live  conform- 
"  ably  to  Nature,  I  do  not  depart  from  thence  f-v), 
"  in  Difobedience  to  thy  Will-,  but  as  receiving 
"  my  Signal  of  Retreat  from  Thee.  I  do  not  de- 
"  fert  Thee  :  Heaven  forbid !  but  I  perceive  Thou 
"  hail  no  Ule  for  me.  if  a  Life  conformable  to 
"  Nature  be  granted,  I  will  feek  no  other  Place, 
*'  but  that  in  which  I  am  \  nor  any  other  Compa- 
"  ny,  but  thcfe  with  whom  I  am." 

§.  6.  Let  thefe  Things  be  ready  at  hand,  Night 
and  Day.  Thefe  Things  write  ;  thefe  Things  read ; 
of  thefe  Things  talk  both  to  yourfelf  and  others. 
[Aik  rhem,]  "  Have  you  any  Afiiilance  to  give 
"  me  for  this  Purpoie.^'*  And  again,  go  and  aik 
another,  and  another.  Then,  if  any  of  thofe  Things 
fhould  happen  that  are  iaid  to  be  againil  our  Will, 
immediately  this  will  be  a  Relief  to  you  ;  in  the  firft 
place,  that  it  was  not  unexpeded.  For  it  is  a  great 
Matter,  upon  all  Occafions,  to  [be  able  to]  fay  (y)y 
*'  I  knew  that  I  begot  one  born  to  die."  Thus  do 
you  fay  too  ;  ''  I  knew  that  I  was  liable  to  die,  to 
"  remove,  to  be  exiled,  to  be  imprifoned."  if  af- 
terwards you  turn  to  yourfelf,  and  feek  from  what 
Quarter  the  Event  proceeds,  you  will  prefently  re* 
collect :  "  It  is  from  Things  independent  on  Choice; 
"  not  from  what  is  my  own.  What  then  is  it  to 
•'  me.^"      Then,    farther  (which   is  the   chief): 

{x)  Awf»6wi».     Wo  LF I  us. 

(y)  This   was  fald  by  Xtnothon,   when    News  was  brought 
him,  that  his  Son  Gryllui  was  killed  in  a  Battle. 

U  Who 


290  The  Discourses  of        Book  III. 

Who  fent  it  ?  The  Commander^  the  Genera]^  the 
City,  the  Law  of  the  City  ?  Give  it  me  then  •, 
for  I  miifl  always  obey  the  Law  in  all  Things.  Far- 
ther yet :  when  any  Appearance  molefts  you  (for 
[to  prevent]  that^  is  not  in  your  Power,)  flrive 
againfl  it ;  and,  by  Reafon,  conquer  it.  Do  not 
fuffer  it  to  gain  Strength,  nor  to  lead  you  on  to 
Confequences;  and  reprefent  what,  and  how,  it 
pleafes.  If  you  are  at  Gyaros^  >do  not  reprefent  to 
yourfelf  the  Manner  of  Living  at  Rome  ;  how  ma* 
ny  Pleafures  you  ufed  to  find  there,  and  how  ma- 
ny would  attend  your  Return ;  but  be  intent  on 
this  Point ;  How  he,  who  lives  at  Gyaros^  may  live 
v/ith  Spirit  and  Comfort,  at  Gyaros.  And,  if  you 
are  at  Rome^  do  not  reprefent  to  yourfelf  the  Man- 
ner of  Living  at  Athens :  but  confider  only,  how 
you  ought  to  live  where  you  are.  Laftly  :  to  all 
other  Pleafures  oppofe  that  of  being  confcious,  that 
you  are  obeying  God  •,  and  performing,  not  in 
Word,  but  in  Deed,  the  Duty  of  a  wife  and  good 
Man.  How  great  a  Thing  is  it  to  be  able  to  fay 
to  yourfelf,  "  What  others  are  now  folemnly  argu- 
*'  ing  in  the  Schools,  and  feem  to  carry  beyond 
*^  Probability,  this  I  am  [adually]  performing. 
"  They  are  fitting  and  expatiating  upon  my  Vir- 
^*  tues,  and  difputing  about  me^  and  celebrating 
"  me.  Jiiprterh^Lth  been  pleafed  to  let  me  receive 
'^  a  Demonftration  of  this  from  myfelf ;  and  in- 
"  deed  that  He  may  know,  whether  he  hath  aSol- 
*'  dier,  a  Citizen,  fuch  as  he  fhould  be,  and  to  pro- 
-"  duce  me  as  a  Witnefs  to  other  Men,  concern- 
*'  ing  Things  independent  on  Choice.  See  that 
■"  your  Fears  were  vain,  your  Appetites  vain.  Seek 
**  not  Good  from  vvithout :  feek  it  in  yourfelves, 
*'  or  you  will  never  find  it.  For  this  Reafon,  he 
*'  now  brings  me  hither,  now  fends  me  thither ; 
*'  (hows  me  to  Mankind,  poor,  without  Authority, 
'*'  fick ;  fends  me  to  Gyaros ;  leads  me  to  Prifon  : 
*'  not  that  he  hates  me  :  Heaven  forbid  !    For  v/ho 

"  hates 


Chap.  25.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  291 

"  hates  the  befl  of  his  Servants  ?  Nor  that  he 
"  neglects  me  :  for  he  doth  not  negledt  any  one  of 
"  the  fmalleft  (z)  Things:  but  to  exercife  me,  and 
"  make  ufe  of  me  as  a  Witnefs  to  others.  Ap- 
*'  pointed  to  fuch  a  Service,  do  I  ftill  care  where  I 
"  am,  or  with  whom,  or  what  is  faid  of  me,  in- 
*'  flead  of  being  wholly  attentive  to  God,  and  to 
"  his  Orders  and  Commands  ?" 

§.  7.  Having  theie  Things  always  at  hand,  and 
pradifmg  them  by  yoiirfelf,  and  making  them 
ready  for  Ufe,  you  will  never  want  any  one  to  com- 
fort and  flrengthen  you.  For  Shame  doth  not  con- 
fill  in  not  having  any  thing  to  eat,  but  in  not  hav- 
ing Reafon  enough  to  exempt  you  from  Fear  and 
Sorrow.  But,  if  you  once  acquire  that  Exemption, 
will  a  Tyrant,  or  his  Guards,  or  Courtiers,  be  any 
thing  to  you  ?  Will  any  Deftination  of  Offices,  or 
they  who  offer  Sacrifices  in  the  Capitol,  on  being 
admitted  into  the  Emperor's  Train,  give  you  Un- 
eahnefs,  who  have  received  fo  great  a  Command 
from  Jupiter  ?  Only,  do  not  make  a  Parade  of  it, 
nor  grow  infolent  upon  it.  But  fhow  it  by  your 
Adions:  and,  though  no  one  fhould  perceive  it, 
be  content,  that  you  are  well,  and  happy. 

CHAPTER    XXV. 

Concerning  Thofe  who  defili  from  their  Purpofe, 

§.  I.  /^  ONSIDER  which  of  the  Things, 
V-/  which  you  at  firft  propofed  to  yourfelf, 
you  have  retained,  which  not,  and  hov/  ^  which 
give  you  Pleafure,  which  Pain,  in  the  Refledion  -, 
and,  if  poffible,  recover  yourfelf,  where  you  have 
failed.  For  the  Champions,  in  this  greateft  of  Com- 
bats, mufl  not  grow  weary  •,  but  are  even  content- 
U  2  '  edly 

(x)  Compare  this  with  the  Defcription  of  the  nniverfal  Care 
of  Providence,  Matth,  X.  29,  30.  and  the  Occafion  on  which 
it  was  introduced. 


^92  ^h^  Discourses  of         Book  III, 

cdly  to  bear  Whipping.  For  this  is  no  Combat  of 
Wreflling  or  Boxing.  ^  where  both  he  who  fiicceeds, 
and  he  who  doth  not  iacceed,  may  pollibly  be  of 
very  great  Worth,  or  of  little;  indeed  may  be  very 
fortunate,  or  very  miferable :  but  the  Combat  is 
for  good  Fortune  and  Happinefs  itfelf.  What  is 
the  Cafe  then  ?  Here^  even  if  we  have  renounced 
the  Contefl,  no  one  reftrains  us  from  renewing  it ; 
nor  need  we  wait  for  another  Four  Years,  for  the 
Return  of  another  Olympiad  •,  but  recoileding,  and 
recovering  yourfelf,  and  returning  with  the  fame 
Zeal,  you  may  renew  it  immediately :  and  even  if 
you  fhould  again  yields  you  may  again  begin  :  and, 
if  you  once  get  the  Victory,  you  become  like  one 
who  hath  never  yielded.  Only  do  not  begin,  from 
a  Habit  of  this,  to  do  it  with  Pleafure,  and  then, 
like  Qiiails  that  have  fled  the  Fit  (^),  go  about  as  if 
you  v/ere  a  brave  Champion,  though  you  have  been 

conquered,  all  the  Games  round  {b).^^ ''  The 

"  Appearance  of  a  pretty  Girl  conquers  me.'* 
What  then  ?  "  Have  not  I  been  conquered  be- 
*'  fore  ?  I  have  a  mind  to  rail  at  fomebody.  Well  i 

"  have  not  I  railed   before  ?" -You  talk   to  us 

juft  as  if  you  had  come  off  unhurt.  Like  one  that 
fhould  fay  to  his  Phyfician,  who  had  forbidden  him 
to  bathe,  "  Why,  did  not  I  bathe  before  ?"  Sup- 
pofe  the  Phylician  fhould  anfv/er  him,  "  Well: 
^*  and  what  was  the  Confequence  of  your  Bathing  ? 
"  Were  not  you  feverilli  ?  Had  not  you  the 
"  Head-ach  ?"  So,  when  you  before  railed  at  fome-* 
body,  did  not  you  ad  like  an  ill-natured  Perfon  ; 

like 

(a)  It  was  a  Sport  among  the  GreekSy  to  piit  Quails  in  af 
circular  Space,  like  our  Cockpits,  and  ufe  v-arious  Ways  of 
trying  their  Courage.  If  the  Quail  ran  away  out  of  the  Pit, 
its  Mailer  loft. 

•  (b)  An  Ajlufion  to  the  Pythian,  IJlhmian,  Nemeariy  and  Olytn- 
fk  Games,  '  The  Perfons  who  Vv'ere  vivStorious  in  all  thefe,  were 
difllnguilhed  by  a  particular  Name  ;  fignifying,  that  they  harf 
f>een  Conquerors  through  the  whofe  Circle  of  the  Games. 
Upton. 


Chap.  26.      E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  293 

like  an  impertinent  one  ?  Have  not  you  fed  this 
Habit  of  yours,  by  Adions  familiar  to  it  ?  When 
you  were  conquered  by  a  pretty  Girl,  did  yoii 
come  off  with  Impunity?  Why  then  do  you  talk 
of  what  you  have  done  be  fere  P  You  ought  to  re- 
jnember  it,  1  think,  as  Slaves  do  Whipping,  fo  as 

to  refrain  from  the  fame   Faults.-i "'  But   the 

*•'  Cafe  is  unlike :  for  there  it  is  Pain  that  caufes 
^'  the  Remembrance :  but  what  is  the  Pain,  what 
"  the  Punifhment,  of  my  committing  Faults  r  For 
"  when  was  I  ever  habituated  [by  any  Suffering] 
*'  to  avoiding  adling  ill  ?" — — Therefore  the  Pairs 
o[  Experience,  whether  we  will,  or  not,  have  their 
Ufe. 

CHAPTER    XXVI. 

Concerning  tbofe  who  are  in  Dread  of  Want, 

%,i.(a)  A  RE  not  you  afhamed  to  be  more  fear^ 
xjL  ful  and  mean-fpirited  than  fugitive 
Slaves  ?  To  what  Eftates,  to  what  Servants,  do 
they  truft,  when  they  run  away,  and  leave  their 
Mafters?  Do  not  they,  after  carrying  off  a  little 
with  them  for  the  Firft  Days,  travel  over  Land  and 
Sea,  contriving  firft  one,  then  another  iVIethod  of 
getting  Food  ?  And  what  Fugitive  ever  died  with 
Hunger  ?  But  you  tremble,  and  lie  awake  by 
Night,  for  fear  you  fhould  want  Neceffaries. 
Wretch !  are  you  fo  blind  ?  Do  not  you  fee  the 
Way  where  the  Want  of  Neceffaries  leads  f 

Why,  where  doth  it  lead  ? 

Where  a  Fever,  where  even  a  Stone  falling  on 

you,  leads— to  Death.     Have  not  you  your- 

felf  then,  often  faid  this  to  your  Companions? 
U  3  Have 

(a)  Compare  this  Chapter  with  the  beautiful  and  affetling 
P/ifcourfes  of  our  Saviour  on  the  fame  Subjed,  Matth.  vi.  25 
«;^— ^4.     Luke  xii,     22 30. 


<294  ^^^  Discou  RSEs  of         Book  III. 

Have  not  you  read,  have  not  you  written,  many 
Things  of  this  kind  P  And  how  often  have  you 
arrogantly  boafled,  that  you  are  eafy  vv^ith  regard 
to  Death  ? 

Ay  :  but  my  Family  too  will  flarve  with  Hun- 
ger 

What  then  ?  Doth  their  Hunger  lead  any  other 
Way  than  yours  ?  Is  there  not  the  fame  Defcent  ? 
The  fame  6tate  below  ?  Will  you  not  then,  in 
every  Want  and  Neceflity,  look  with  Confidence 
there,  where  even  the  moil  Rich  and  Powerful,  and 
Kings  and  Tyrants  themfelves  mufl:  defcend  ?  You 
indeed,  hungi-y  perhaps ;  and  they,  burfl  with  In- 
digeflion  and  Drunkennefs  ?  What  Beggar  have 
you  almoft  ever  feen,  who  did  not  live  to  Old-age, 
nay,  to  extreme  Old-age?  Chilled  v^ithCold  Day 
and  Night,  lying  on  the  Ground,  and  eating  only 
what  is  barely  neceirary,  they  come  nearly  to  an 
Impollibility  of  Dying. — Cannot  you  write  ?  Can- 
not you  keep  a  School  ?  Cannot  you  be  a  Watch- 
man at  fome body's  Door  ? 

But  it  is  fharneful  to  come  to  this^  Neceflity. 

Firfl:  therefore,  learn  what  Things  are  fhameful  ? 
and  then  tell  us,  you  are  a  Philofopher :  but  at 
preient,  do  not  bear,  that  even  any  one  elfe  fhould 
call  you  fo.  Is  that  fhameful  to  you^  which  is  not 
your  own  Ad  ?  Of  which  you  are  not  the  Caufe  ? 
Which  hath  happened  to  you  by  Accident,  like  a 
Fever,  or  the  Head-ach  ?  If  your  Parents  were 
poor,  or  left  others  their  Heirs,  or,  though  they 
are  living,  do  not  aflifl  you,  are  thefe  Things 
jliameful  for  you  ?  Is  this  what  you  have  learned 
from  the  Philofophers  ?  Have  you  never  heard, 
that  what  is  fhameful  is  blameable ;  and  what  is 
biameable  defer ves  to  be  blamed  ?  Whom  do  you 
blame  for  an  Adion  not  his  own,  which  he  hath  not 
done  himfelf?  D\d  you  then  make  your  Father 
fuch  a  one  [as  he  is]  ?  Or  is  it  myour  Power  to 
mend  him  ?     Is  that  permitted  you  ?     What  then, 

muft 


Chap.  26.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  ^95 

muft  youdcfire  what  is  not  permitted;  and,  when 
Sail  of  u,  be  ajhamed?     Are  you  thtis  habitu- 
ated, even  when  you  are  ftudy.ng  Ph.lofophy,  to 
depend  upon  others,  and   to  hope  noth.ng  from 
voirfelf?  Sigh   then,  and  groan,  and  eat  mFear 
^hat  vou  ihalThave  no  Victuals  To-morrow.  Trem- 
ble  left  your  Servants  (hould  rob  you,  or  run  away 
from  you    or  die.     Thus  live  on    without  ceaf.ng, 
vZever  you  are,  who  have  applied  to  Philofophy 
n  Name  only  ;  and,  as  much  as  in  you  lies,  have 
difgraced  Its  Theorems,  byftowmg    that  they  are 
unprofitable  and  ufelefs  to  thofe  who  take  up  the 
Profeffion  of  them.     You  have  never  made  Con- 
ftancy,  Tranquillity,  and   Apathy,  the   Objed  of 
your  DefiresT  have  attended  on  no  one  upon  this 
Account ;  but  on  many,  for  the  Sake  of  Syllogifms ; 
nor  have  ever,  by  yourfelf,  examined  any  one  of 
thefe  Appearances.     "  Can  1  bear  this,  or  can   I 
«  not  bear  it  ?    What  remains  for  me  to  do  i 
But,  as  if  all  your  Affairs  went  fafe  and  well,  you 
tev'e  dwelt  upon  the  Third  Clafs  ib),  that  of  Secu- 
rity from  Failure  ;  that  you  may  never  fail— Of 

,^4? Fear,  Mean-fpiritednels,  Admiration  of 

Riches,  an  unaccomplifhed  Defire,  and  unfiKcefs- 
ful  Averfion.     Thefe  are  the  Things  which  you 
have  been  labouring  to  fecure     Ought  you  not 
firft  to  have  acquired  fomething  by  the  Ufe  of  Rea- 
In,  and  then  to  have  provided  Security  iorjh^? 
.    Whom  did  you  ever  fee  building  a  Round  of  Bat_ 
tlements,  without  placing  them  upon  a  Wall  ?  And 
what  Porter  is  ever  fet  where  there  is  no  Door- 
But  you/«iy.     Can  you  ihow  me  what  you  ftudy  ? 
Not  to  be  (haken  by  Sophiftry. 
Shaken  from  what?     Show  me  firft,  what  you 
have   in  your  Cuftody  5    what  you  meafiare,    or 
what  you  weigh;  and  then  accordingly   Ihow  me 
The  Balance,  or  the  Buftiel.    What  fignifies  it  to 
^o  onf  ever  Vo  long,  meafunng  Duft  ?     Ought  ymj 
U  4 
(h)  See  Introduaion,  §.6. 


296  ^he  Discourses    of       Book  III. 

not  to  fbow,  what  makes  Men  happy,  what  makes 
their  Affairs  proceed  as  they  wifh  ?  How  we  may 
blame  no  one,  accufe  no  one  \  hov/  acquiefce  in 
the  Adminiilration  of  the  Univerfe  ?  Show  me 
thefe  Things.     ''  See,  I  do  lliow  them,"  fay  you  \ 

"  1  willfolve  Syllogifms  to  you." -This  is  the 

Meafure,  Wretch,  and  not  the  1  hing  micafured. 
Hence  you  now  pay  the  Penaky  due  for  ncgleding 
Philolbphy.  You  tremble,  you  lie  awake,  you  ad- 
vife  with  every  body,  and  if  what  you  are  advifed  to 
doth  not  plea'e  every  body,  you  think  that  you  have 
been  ill-advifed.  Then  you  dread  Hunger,  as  you 
fancy  :  but  it  is  not  Hunger  that  you  dread  ^  but 
you  are  afraid,  that  you  fhall  not  have  a  Cook ;  that 
you  fhall  not  have  another  Pcrion  for  a  Butler ; 
another,  to  pull  off  your  Shoes  •,  a  fourth,  to  drefs 
you  ;  others,  to  rub  you  ;  others,  to  follow  you  : 
that,  when  you  have  undrelfed  yourfelf  in  the  Bath- 
ing-room^,  and  ftretched  yourfelf  out  like  thofe 
who  are  crucified,  you  may  be  rubbed  here  and 
there  ;  and  the  Perfcn  who  prefides  over  thefe  O- 
perations  may  ftand  by,  and  fay,  "  Copie  this 
"  Way  ;  give  your  Side ;  take  hold  on  his  Head  ; 
^'  turn  your  Shoulder;"  and  that,  when  you  are 
returned  home  from  the  Bath,  you  may  bawl 
out,  "  Doth  nobody  bring  any  thing  to  eat  ?" 
'  And  then,  "  Take  away  ;  wipe  the  Table."  This 
is  your  Dread,  that  you  Iball  not  be  able  to  lead  the 
Life  of  a  Tick  Man.  But  b^rn  the  Life  of  thofe  in 
Health :  how  Slaves  live  ;  how,  Labourers ;  how, 
thofe  who  are  genuine  Philofophers ;  how  Socrates 
lived,  even  with  a  wife  and  Children;  how,  Bif ge- 
nes \  how,  Qeanihes  (f),  at  once  fludying  and  draw- 
ing Water.  \i  thefe  are  the  Things  you  would 
,  '  •  have, 

(r)  Cleanthes  was  a  Stoic  Philofopher,  the  Difciple  and  Suc- 
cefibr  of  Ztno.  He  uled  to  draw  Water  for  his  Livelihood  all 
Night,  and  ftudy  all  Day.  He  was  fo  poor,  that  for  Want  of 
proper  Materials,  he  ufed  write  down  what  he  had  heard  fron^ 
his  Mailer  Z^«^,  on  Tiles,  and  Pieces  of  Bone.  The  Piiyficians 
.  •        '  .     .      .  ordered 


Chap.  26.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  297 

have,  you  will  have  them  every-where,  and  with  a 
fearlefs  Confidence. 

In  what  ? 

In  the  only  Thing  that  can  be  confided  in  ;  what 
is  fure,  incapable  of  being  reftrained,  or  taken  away  •, 
your  ov/n  Choice. 

§.2.  But  why  have  you  contrived  to  makeyour- 
felf  lb  ufelefs,  and  good  for  nothing,  that  nobody 
will  receive  you  into  their  Houfe  -,  nobody  take  Care 
of  you  :  but  though,  if  any  found  ufeful  VefTel  was 
throv/n  out  of  Doors,  whoever  finds  it,  will  take  it 
up,  and  eileem  it  as  a  Gain  ♦,  yet  nobody  will  take 
up  you  ;  but  every  body  efteem  you  a  Lois.  What, 
cannot  you  fo  much  as  perform  the  Office  of  a  Dog, 
or  a  Cock  ^  Why  then  do  .you  wilh  to  live  any 
JOFjger,  if  you  are  lo  worthlefs  ?  Doth  any  good 
Man  fear,  that  Food  fhould  fail  him  ?  It  doth  not 
fail  the  Blind  -,  it  doth  not  fail  the  Lame.  Shall  it 
fail  a  good  Man  .?  A  Paymafter  is  not  wanting  to 
a  Soldier,  or  to  a  Labourer,  or  to  a  Shoemaker  ; 
and  fhall  one  be  wanting  to  a  good  Man  ?  Is  God 
fo  negligent  of  his  ownlnllitutions  ;  of  his  Servants ; 
of  his  WitnelTes,  whom  alone  he  makes  ufe  of  as 
Examples  to  the  Uninftruded,  both  that  He  /j, 
and  that  he  adminifters  the  Univerfe  righdy ;  and 
doth  not  negled  human  Affairs  ;  and  that  no  Evil 
happens  to  a  good  Man,  either  living  or  dead  ? 
What  then  is  the  Cafe,  when  he  doth  not  bellow 
Food  ?  What  elfe,  than  that,  like  a  good  Gene- 
ral, he  hath  made  me  a  Signal  of  Retreat .?  I  obey, 
I  follow  i  fpeaking  well  of  my  Leader,  praiHnghis 
Works.  For  1  cam.e  when  it  feemed  good  to  him  •, 
and  again,  when  it  feems  good  to  him,  I  depart : 
and  in  Life  it  was  my  Bufinefs  to  praife  God,  both 

by 

ordered  him,  for  a  Swelling  in  his  Gums,  to  abftain  two  Days 
from  Food  ;  with  which  he  complied.  When  he  was  recover- 
ed, they  gave  him  Leave  to  return  to  his  ufual  Diet ;  which 
he  refuted  ;  and,  faying  he  was  now  far  advanced  on  his  Jour- 
116 V,  ftarved  himfeif  to  Death.    Diog.  Laert. 


29S  The  Discourses  of      Book  HI. 

by  myfelf,  to  tach  particular  Perfon,  and  to  the 
"VVorld.  Doth  he  not  grant  me  many  Things? 
Doth  he  not  grant  me  Affluence  ?  It  is  not  his 
Pleafure,  that  I  fhould  live  luxurioufly:  for  he  did 
not  grant  that  even  to  Hercules^  his  own  Son  ;  but 
another  (d)  reigned  over  /^rgos  and  Mycena  ;  while 
he  lived  ilibjed  to  Command,  laboured,  and  was 
exercifed.  And  Euryjlheus  was  juil  what  he'was  \ 
neither  King  of  Ano^^  nor  Mycena-^  not  being  in- 
deed King  of  himfelf.  But  Hercules  was  Ruler  and 
Governor  of  the  whole  Earth  and  Seas  \  the  Expel- 
ler  of  Lawlefihefs  and  Irjuflice ;  the  Introducer  of 
Juflice  and  Sanctity.  And  this  he  effevfted  naked 
and  alone.  Again  :  when  Ulyjfes  was  fhipwrecked, 
and  cafl:  away,  did  his  helplefs  Condition  at  all  de- 
jed  him  ?  Did  it  break  his  Spirit  ?  No  :  But  how 
did  he  go  to  Naiificaa^  and  her  Attendants,  to  afk 
thofe  NeceiTaries  which  it  feems  mofl  Ihameful  to 
beg  from  another  ? 

As  the  fierce  Liouy  en  the  Mountain  bred^ 
Confiding  in  his  Strength 

Confiding  in  what?  Not  in  Glory,  nor  in  Riches, 
nor  in  Dominion  -,  but  in  his  own  Strength  :  that 
is,  in  his  Principles,  concerning  what  Things  are 
in  our  own  Power  -,  what,  not.  For  thefe  alone 
are  what  render  us  free,  render  us  incapable  of  Re- 
ftraint ;  raife  the  Head  of  the  Dejeded,  and  make 
them  look,  with  unaverted  Eyes,  full  in  the  Face 
of  the  Rich,  and  of  the  Tyrants:  and  this  was  the 
Gift  of  the  Philofopherf^).  But  you  will  not  fet 
i.tut  with  Coniidence ;  but  trembling,  about  fuch 
Trifles  as  Clothes  and  Plate.  Wretch !  have  yoE 
thus  wafted  your  Time  till  now  ? 

But  what,  if  I  fhould  be  fick? 

You  will  be  fick  as  you  ought. 

Who 

(d)  Euryjlheus, 

(e)  The  Senfe  would  be  better.  If  we  read  t%;  ^iXoo-o^taj,  of 
Phiiolbphy. 


Chap.  26.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  299 

Who  will  take  care  of  me  ? 

God  :  your  Friends. 

I  fhall  lie  in  a  hard  Bed. 

But  like  a  Man. 

I  fhall  not  have  a  convenient  Room. 

You  will  be  fick  in  an  inconvenient  one  then. 

Who  will  provide  Vidtuals  for  me  ^ 

They  who  provide  for  others  too :  you  will  be 
fick  like  A^anes  (f). 

But,  befides,  what  will  be  the  Conclufion  of  my 
Sicknefs  .?     Any  other  than  Death  ^ 

Why,  do  not  you  know  then,  that  the  Origin  of 
all  human  Evils,  and  of  Mean-fpiritednefs,  and 
Cowardice,  is  not  Death ;  but  rather  the  Fear  of 
Death  }  Fortify  yourfelf  -therefore  againf]:  this. 
Hither  let  all  your  Difcourfes,  Readings,  Exercifes, 
tend.  And  then  you  will  know,  that  thus  alone  are 
Men  made  free. 

if)  The  Name  of  a  Slave,  particularly  of  a  Slave  who  once 
belonged  to  Diogenes :  and  perhaps  this  Expreflion  alludes  to 
ibme  Story  about  him,  which  is  now  unknown. 


End  of  the  Third  Book. 


THE 

DISCOURSES 

O  F 

EP  ICTEtUS. 

BOOK     IV. 


Coiirfe  of  Life  ?• 


CHAPTER    I. 

Of  Freedom, 


E  is  free^  who  lives  as  be  likes ; 
who  is  not  fubjedl  either  to  Com- 
pulfion,  to  Reftraint,  or  to  Vio- 
lence :  whofe  Purfuits  are  un- 
hindered, his  Defires  fuccefsful, 
his  Averfions  unincurred.  Who 
then  would  wifh  to  lead  a  wrong 
—"  No  one/'- Who  would 


live  deceived,  prone  to  miftake,  unjufl,  diflblute, 

difcontented,    dejeded  ? *'   No   one." No 

wicked  Man  then  lives  as  he  likes ;  therefore  nei- 
ther is  he  free.     And  who  would  live  in  Sorrow, 

Fear, 


502  The  Discourses  of        Book  IV.      ' 

Fear,  Envy,  Pity;  with  difappointed  Defires,  and 

incurred  Averfions? "  No  one," -\3o  we 

then  find  any  of  the  Wicked  exempt  from  Sor- 
row, Fear,  difappointed  Defires,  incurred  Aveifi- 

ons?- — ' — ■"   Not  one." -Confequently   then,  i 

not  free  {a).  ^ 

§.  2.  If  a  Perfon  who  hath  been  twice  Gondii 
fhould  hear  this,  provided  yon  add,  "  but  you  are 
''  a  wife  Man;  this  is  nothing  to jvi?^;"  he  will 
forgive  you.  But  if  you  tell  him  the  Truth  ;  that, 
in  point  of  Slavery,  he  doth  not  differ  from  thofe 
who  have  been  thrice  fold,  what  muft  you  exped, 
but  to  be  beaten  ?  "  For  how,  fays  he,  am  1  a 
"  Slave  ?  My  Father  was  free,  my  Mother  free  {h). 
"  Befides,  I  am  a  Senator  too,  and  the  Friend  of 
*'  Cafar ;  and  have  been  twice  Conful  -,  and  have 

''  myfelfmany  Slaves." In  the  firfl  place,  mod 

worthy  Sir,  perhaps  your  Father  too  was  a  Slave  of 
the  fame  kind  ;  and  your  Mother,  and  your  Grand- 
father, and  all  your  Anceflors  fuccelfively.  But 
even  if  they  were  ever  fo  free,  what  is  that  to  pu  ? 
For  what,  if  they  were  of  a  generous,  you  of  a 
mean  Spirit :  they,  brave ;  and  you,  a  Coward : 
they,  fober  -,  and  you,  diflo hue  ? 

§.  3.  And,  '*  What,  fays  he,  is  this  towards  be- 

*'  ing  a  Slave  ?'\0 Do  you  think  it  nothing 

towards  being  a  Slave,  to  adl  againft  your  Will  ? 

Compelled,  and  lamenting  ? "  Be  it  fb.     But 

"  who  can  compel   me,  but  the  Mafler  of  All, 

**  C^far  .^'* By  your  own  ConfelTion  then,   you 

have  one  Mafter  :  and  let  not  his  being,  as  you  fay, 
Mafter  of  All,  give  you  any  Comfort ;  but  know, 

that 

{a)  Whofoe'ver  commhteth  Sin,  is  the  Servant  of  Sin,  John 
viii.  34. 

(If)  They  anfwered  him.  We  he  Abraham'^  Seedy  and  ivere  ne- 
ver  in  Bondage  to  any  Man :  hoijo  fayeji  thou,  Yejhallhe  made  free  ? 
John  viiit  33. 

{c)  Mr.  Uptons  Copy  tranfpofes  many  Pages  of  this  Chapter 
to  their  right  Place ;  which,  in  others,  were  joined  to  the  laft 
Chapter  of  the  Third  Book. 


Chap.  I.  E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  303 

that  yon  are  a  Slave  in  a  great  Family.  Thus  the 
Nicopolitans  too,  frequently  cry  out,  "  By  the  Life 
"  of  Cafar^  we  ^.x^free  /" 

§.  4.  P'or  the  prefent,    however,    if  you   pleafe, ' 
we  will  let  C^efar  alone.     But  tell  me  this.     Have 
you  never  been  in  Love  with  any  one,  either  of  a 
fervile  or  liberal  Condition  .? — "   Why,  what  is  that 

"  to  the  being  either  a  Slave,   or  free  V Was 

you  never  commanded  any  thing  by  yoL\r  Miftreis, 
that  you  did  not  chufe }  Have  you  never  flattered 
your  Slave  ^  Have  you  never  killed  her  Feet }  And 
yet,  if  you  were  commanded  to  kifs  defars  Feet,  you 
would  think  it  an  Outrage,  and  an  Excefs  of  Ty- 
ranny. Have  you  never  gone  out  by  Night,  where 
you  did  not  chufe  ^  Have  you  never  fpent  more 
than  you  chofe  }  Have  not  you  fometimes  uttered 
your  Words  with  Sighs  and  Groans  ?  Born  to  be 
reviled,  and  fhut  out  of  Doors }  But,  if  you  are 
afhamed  to  confefs  your  own  Follies,  fee  what  "Thra- 
fonides  (d)  fays,  and  doth  ;  who,  after  having  fought 
more  Battles  perhaps  than  you,  went  out  by  Night, 
when  Get  a  {e)  would  not  dare  to  go  :  Nay,  had  he 
been  compelled  to  it  by  him,  would  have  gone  roar- 
ing, and  lamenting  his  bitter  Servitude.  And  what 
doth  [this  Mafler  of  his]  fay  afterwards,  *'  A  forry 
*'  Girl  hath  enflaved  me^  whom  no  Enemy  ever  en- 

*'  flaved." (Wretch  !  to  be  the  Slave  of  a  Girl, 

and  a  forry  Girl  too  I  Why  then  do  you  flill  call 
yourfelf/r^^  ?  Why  do  you  boafl  your  military  Ex- 
peditions ^) Then  he  calls  for  a  Sword,  and  is 

angry  with  the  Perfon  who,  out  of  Kindnefs,  de- 
nies it ;  and  fends  Prefents  to  her  who  hates  him  ; 
and  begs,  and  weeps,  and  then  again  is  elated  on 
every  little  Succefs.  But  how  is  he  elated  even 
then  ^  is  it  fo,  as  neither  palTionately  to  defire  or 
fear. 

(d)  A  Chara^er  in  one  of  the  Comedies  of  Menander,.  called 
9.  he  Hated  Louver, 
{e)  The  Name  of  a  Slave. 


304  ^he  Discourses  of        Book  IV,' 

§.  5.  Confider,  in  Animals,  what  is  our  Idea  of 
Freedom.  Some  keep  tame  Lions,  and  feed,  and 
even  carry  them  about  with  them  :  and  who  will 
fay,  that  any  fuch  Lion  is  free  ?  Nay,  doth  he  not 
live  the  more  flaviflily,  the  more  he  lives  at  eafe  ? 
And  who,  that  had  Senfe  and  Reafon,  would  wifh 
to  be  one  of  thofe  Lions  ?  Again  :  Hov/  much  do 
Birds,  which  are  taken  and  kept  in  a  Cage,  fufter, 
by  trying  to  fiy  away  ?  Nay,  fome  of  them  iiarve 
with  Hunger,  rather  than  undergo  fuch  a  Life  : 
then,  as  many  of  them  as  are  faved,  it  is  fcarcely, 
and  with  Difficulty,  and  in  a  pining  Condition  ;  and 
the  Moment  they  find  any  Hole,  out  they  hop. 
Such  a  Defire  have  they  of  natural  Freedom,    and 

to  be  at  their  own  Difpofal,  and  unreflrained. 

*'  And  what  Harm  (f)  doth  this  Confinement  do 

*'  you  ?" ''  What  fay  you  ?    I  was  born  to  fly 

*'  where  I  pleafe,  to  live  in  the  open  Air,  to  fing 
**  when  I  pleafe.  You  deprive  me  of  all  this,  and 
"  fay,  What  Harm  doth  it  do  you  ?*' 

§.  6.  Hence  we  will  allow  thofe  only  to  be  free, 
who  do  not  endure  Captivity  ;  but,  as  fbon  as  they 
are  taken,  die,  and  efcape.  Thus  Diogenes  fome- 
where  fays,  That  the  only  way  to  Freedom  is  to  . 
die  with  Eafe.  And  he  writes  to  the  Perjian  King ; 
*'  You  can  no  more  enflave  the  Athenians^  than  you 

*'  can  Fi(h;' "  How  }  What,  (hall  not  I  take 

"  them  V — "  if  you  do  take  them,  fays  he,  they 
*'  will  leave  you,  and  be  gone,,  like  Fifh.  For 
"  take  a  Fifh,  and  it  dies.  And,  if  the  Athenians 
*'  too  die,  as  foon  as  you  have  taken  them,  of  what 
**  Ufe  are  your  warlike  Preparations  V — This  is 
.the  Voice  of  a  free  Man,  who  had  examined  the 
Matter  in  earnefl ;  and,  as  it  might  be  expeded, 
found  it  out.  But,  if  you  feek  it  where  it  is  not, 
what  Wonder,  if  you  never  find  it } 

§.  7.  A  Slave  wifhes  to  be  immediately  fet  free. 
Think  you  it  is  becaufe  he  is  defirous  to  pay  his 

Fine 

(f)  Wolfiusj  very  rightl/,  for  «a^»>  reads  xaxov. 


Chap.  I.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  ^os 

Fine  to  the  Officer  {g)  ?  No :  but  becaufe  he  fan- 
cies, that,  for  v/ant  of  acquiring  his  Freedom,  he 
hath  hitherto  hvfd  under  Reftraint,  and  unprofper- 
oufly.  "  If  I  am  once  fet  free,  fays  he,  it  is  all 
*'  Profperity  :  I  care  for  no  one ;  I  fpeak  to  All,  as 
"  their  Equal,  and  on  a  Level  with  them.  I  go 
*'  where  1  will,  I  come  when  (/?),  and  how  I  will.*' 
He  is  at  laft  made  free  -,  and  prefently,  having  no- 
where to  eat,  he  feeks  whom  he  may  flatter,  with 
whom  he  may  fup.  He  then  either  fubmits  to  the 
bafeft  and  moft  infamous  Proftitution  ;  and,  if  he 
can  obtain  Admiffion  to  fome  great  Man's  Table, 
falls  into  a  Slavery  much  worfe  than  the  former : 
or,  if  the  Creature,  void  of  Senfe  and  right  Tafte, 
happens  to  acquire  an  affluent  Fortune,  he  doats 
upon  fome  Girl,  laments,  and'is  unhappy,  and  wifhes 
for  Slavery  again.  ''  For  what  Harm  did  it  do 
"  me?  Another  clothed  me,  another  fhod  me, 
*'  another  fed  me,  another  took  care  of  me  when 
"  1  was  fick.  It  was  but  in  a  few  Things,  by  way 
"  of  Return,  1  ufed  to  ferve  him.  But  now,  mi- 
*'  ferable  Wretch !  what  do  I  fuffer,  in  being  a 
*'  Slave  to  many,  inftead  of  one  !  Yet,  if  I  can  ob- 
"  tain  the  Equeflrian  Rings  f/},  I  fhall  live  with  the 
*'  utmofh  Profperity  and  Happinefs."  In  order  to 
obtain  them,  he  firil  fuffers  what  he  deferves ;  and, 
as  foon  as  he  hath  obtained  them,  it  is  all  the  fame 
again.  "  But  then,  fays  he,  if  I  do  but  get  a  mi- 
*''  litary  Command,  I  fhall  be  delivered  from  all  my 
"Troubles.'*  He  gets  a  military  Command.  He 
fuffers  as  much  as  the  vileft  Rogue  of  a  Slave  :  and, 
nevertheiefs,  he  afks  for  a  fecond  Command,  and  a 
third:  and  when  he  hath  put  the  finifhing  Hand, 
and  is  made  a  Senator,   then  he  is  a  Slave  indeed. 

X  When 

[g)  See  p.  99.     Note  {d).  ,     ,,  ^ 

i^h)  It  feems  necelTary,   that  oSsv  and  owa  ihould  be  ot«»  and 

oTTw? ;  and  they  are  fo  tranflated. 

(/)  A  Gold  Ring  was  the  peculiar  Ornament  of  the  Roman 

Knights,  by  which  they  were  diftinguifhsd  from  the  Plebeians. 

Upton. 


3c6  The  Discourses  <?/        Book  IV. 

When  he  comes  into  the  AfTembly,    it  is  then  that 
he  undergoes  his  fineft  and  mofi:  fplendid  Slavery. 

§.  8. {k).     Not  to  be  a  Fool ;  but  to  learn 

what  Socrates  taught ;  the  Nature  of  Things  :  and 
not  to  adapt  Pre-conceptions  rafhly  to  particular 
Subjeds.  For  the  Caufe  of  all  human  Evils  is,  the 
not  being  able  to  adapt  general  Pre-conceptions  to 
particular  Cafes.  But  different  People  have  different 
Opinions.  One  thinks  the  Caufe  of  his  Evils  to  be, 
that  he  is  fick.  By  no  means :  but  that  he  doth 
not  adapt  his  Pre-conceptions  right.  Another,  that 
he  is  poor  :  another,  that  he  hath  a  harfh  Father 
and  Mother  :  another,  that  he  is  not  in  the  good 
Graces  of  C<ejar.  This  is  nothing  elfe,  but  not  un- 
derftanding  how  to  adapt  our  Pre-conceptions.  F'or, 
who  hath  not  a  Pre-conception  of  Evil,  that  it  is 
hurtful  ?  That  it  is  to  be  avoided }  That  it  is  by  all 
means  to  be  prudently  guarded  againft  ?  One  Pre- 
conception doth  not  contradict  another,  except 
when  it  comes  to  be  adapted.  What  then  is  this 
Evil,  thus  hurtful,  and  to  be  avoided }  ^'  Not  to 
"  be  the  Friend  of  Cafar^'  faith  one.  He  is  gone  ; 
he  fails  in  the  adapting ;  he  is  embarralTed ;  he  feeks 
what  is  nothing  to  the  purpofe.  For,  if  he  gets  to 
be  C^/^r's.  Friend,  he  is  never  the  lefs  diflant 
from  what  he  fought.  For  what  is  it  that  every 
Man  feeks  ?  To  be  fecure,  to  be  happy,  to  do 
what  he  pleafes  without  Reftraint,  and  without 
Compulfion.  When  he  becomes  the  Friend  of 
Cafar  then,  doth  he  ceafe  to  be  reilrained  ^.  To 
be  compelled  ?  Is  he  fecure  ?  Is  he  happy  ?  Whom 
fhail  he  afk.^^  Whom  can  we  better  credit  than 
this  very  Man,  who  hath  been  his  Friend  }  Come 
forth  and  tell  us,  whether  you  fleep  more  quietly 
now,  or  before  you  were  the  Friend  of  C<efar  ?  You 
prefently  hear  him  cry,  ''  Leave  off,  for  Heaven's 
"  fake,  and  do  not  infult  me.  You  know  not  the 
*'  Miferies  I  fuffer  :  there  is  no  Sleep  for  me  ;  but 

"  one 
{k)  Something  Is  here  wanting  in  the  Original. 


Chap.  I.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  307 

"  one  comes,  and  faith,  that  C^far  is  already  awake; 
"  another,  that  he  isjufl  going  out.  Then  follow 
"  Perturbations,  then  Cares."  Well :  and  when 
did  you  ufe  to  fup  more  pleafantly  ;  formerly,  or 
now  ?  Hear  what  he  fays  about  this  too.  When 
he  is  not  invited,  he  is  diftraded  ;  and  if  he  is,  he 
fups  like  a  Slave  with  his  Mafter,  folicitous  all  the 
while,  not  to  fay  or  do  any  thing  foolifh.  And 
what  think  you  .'*  Is  he  afraid  of  being  whipped, 
like  a  Slave  ?  How  can  he  hope  to  efcape  fo  well  ? 
No  :  but  as  becomes  fo  great  a  Man,  Cafar's  Friend, 
of  lofing  his  Head. — And  when  did  you  bathe  more 
quietly ;  when  did  you  perform  your  Exercifes  more 
at  your  leifure ;  in  fhort,  which  Life  would  you  ra- 
ther wifh  to  live,  your  prefen-t,  or  the  former  .?  I 
could  fwear,  there  is  no  one  fo  flupid  and  infenfible 
(/),  as  not  to  deplore  his  Miferies,  in  proportion  as 
he  is  more  the  Friend  of  Cajar. 

§.  9.  Since  then,  neither  they  who  are  called 
Kings  {m)^  nor  the  Friends  of  Kings,  live  as  they 
like ;  who,  after  all,  are  free  ?  Seek,  and  you  will 
find  :  for  you  are  furnifhed  by  Nature  with  Means 
for  difcovering  the  Truth.  But,  if  you  are  not 
able  by  thefe  alone  to  find  the  Confequence,  hear 
them  who  have  fought  it.  What  do  they  fay  ?  Do 
you  think  Freedom  a  Good  .^ — "  The  greateft." — 
Can  any  one  then,  who  attains  the  greateft  Good 
be  unhappy,  or  unfuccefsful  in  his  Affairs  .^^ — '^  No." 
— As  many,  therefore,  as  you  fee  unhappy,  lament- 
ing, unprofperous,  confidently  pronounce  them  not 
free. — "  I  do.'* — Henceforth  then  we  have  done 
with  buying  and  felling,  and  fuch  like  flated  Condi- 
tions of  becoming  Slaves.  For,  if  you  have  made 
thefe  Conceflions  properly,  whether  a  great  or  a 
little  King,  a  Confular,  or  one  twice  a  Conful,  be 
unhappy,  he  is  not  free. — "  Agreed." 

X  2  §  10. 

(/)  ApaAynr©- for  ayaXy,$s:?.      Up  TON. 

(«)  The  Stoics  held  the  wife  Man  to  be  the  onl)'  real  King. 
Upton. 


308  "The  DiseouRSEs    of       Book  IV. 

§.  10.  Further  then,   anfwer  me  this:    Do  you 
think  Freedom  to  be  (bmething  great,   and  noble, 

and  valuable  ?- "  How  (hould  I  not?" Is 

it  polTible  then,  that  he  who  acquires  any  thing  fo 
great,  and  valuable,  and  noble,  Ihould  be  of  an  ab- 

jed  Spirit  ? "  It  is  not."-""       Whenever  then 

you  fee  any  one  fubjedt  to  another,  and  flattering 
him,  contrary  to  his  own  Opinion,  confidently  fay, 
that  He  too  is  not  free  :  and  not  only  if  he  doth  it 
for  a  Supper,  but  even  if  it  be  for  a  Government ; 
nay,  a  Confulfhip :  but  call  thofe  indeed  little  Slaves, 
who  a6l  thus  for  the  fake  of  little  Things;  and  the 

others,    as  they  defer ve,   great  Slaves "  Be 

*'  this  too  agreed." —Well :  do  you  think  Free- 
dom to  be  ibmething  independent  and  felf-determi- 

ned  ? "  How  can  it  be  otherwife  ?" Him 

then,  whom  it  is  in  the  Power  of  another  to  reflrain 
or  to  compel!,  affirm  confidently^  to  be  not  free. 
And  do  not  mind  his  Grandfathers,  or  Great  Grand- 
fathers; or  inquire,  whether  he  hath  been  bought 
or  fold  :  but,  if  you  hear  him  fay,  from  his  Heart, 
and  with  Emotion,  my  Majt-ery  though  twelve  Lie- 
tors  fliould  march  before  him,  call  him  a  Slave. 
And,  if  you  fhould  hear  him  fay.  Wretch^  that  1 
am  I  what  do  I  fuffer  !  call  him  a  Slave.  In  (hort, 
if  you  fee  him  wailing,  complaining,  unprofperous, 

call  him  a  Slave  in  Fur  pie. ' — "  Suppoie  then 

"  h-:^-  doth  nothing  of  all  this  ?" Do  not  yet  fay, 

he  is  free  ;  but  learn  whether  his  Principles  are  Ha- 
ble  to  Compulfion,  to  Reflraint,  qr  Difappoint- 
ment ;  and,  if  you  find  this  to  be  the  Cafe,  call 
him  a  Slave,  keeping  Holiday  during  the  Saturna" 
Ua{n).  Say,  that  his  Mafler  is  abroad :  he  will 
come  prefentiy  ;  and  you  will  know  what  he  fuffers. 

— — "  Who  will  come  ?" Whoever  hath 

the  Power  either  of  beflowing,  or  taking  away,  any 

of 

(»)  The  Feaft  of  Saturn y  in  which  the  Slaves  had  a  Liberty  of 
fitting  at  Table  with  their  Maft^rs;  in  Mcraoxy  of  the.Equality 
of  Conditions  under  his  Reign. 


Chap.  I.         E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  ^09 

of  the  Things,  he  wiflies  for. "  Have  we  fo 

*'  many  Mafters  theft  P" We  have.     For,  prior 

to  all  fuch,  we  have  the  Things  themfelves  for  our 
Mafters;  now  they  are  many:  and  it  is  through 
thefe,  that  it  becomes  necefiary  that  fuch  as  have 
the  Difpofal  of  them,  fhould  be  our  Mafters  too. 
For  no  one  fears  C^/^r  himfelf;  but  Death,  Ba- 
nifhment,  Lofs  of  Goods,  Prifon,  Difgrace.  Nor 
doth  any  one  love  Cafar^  unlefs  he  be  a  Perfon  of 
great  Worth  :  but  we  love  Riches,  the  Tribunate, 
the  Praetorfhip,  the  Confulftiip.  When  we  love, 
and  hate,  and  fear  thefe  Things,  they  who  have 
the  Difpofal  of  them  muft  necelfarily  be  our  Ma- 
fters, Hence  we  even  worftiip  them  as  Gods.  For 
we  confider,  that  whoever  hath  the  Difpofal  of  the 
greateft  Advantages,  is  a  Deity :  and  then  we  fub- 
join  falfely,  but  fuch  a  one  hath  the  Power  of  the 
greateft  Advantages  ;  therefore  he  is  a  Deity.  For,  if 
we  fubjoin  falfely,  the  Inference  arifmg  from  thence 
muft  be  falfe  likewife. 

§.  1 1.  "  What  is  it  then  that  makes  a  Man  free 
**  and  independent  ?  For  neither  Riches,  nor  Con- 
"  fulftiip,  nor  Command  of  Provinces,  or  King- 
"  doms,  make  him  fo ;  but  fomething  elfe  muft 
''  be  found-"— What  is  it  that  preferves  any  one 
from  being  hindered  and  reftrained  in  Writing  ?— 
*^  The  Science  of  Writing."— In  Mufic  ?— "  The 
*'  Science  of  Mufic."— Therefore,  in  Life  too,  the 
Science  of  Living.  As  you  have  heard  it  in  gene- 
ral then,  confider  it  likewife  in  Particulars.  Is  it 
poifible  for  Him  to  be  unreftrained,  who  defires  any 
of  thofe  Things,  that  are  in  the  Power  of  others ^^ 
^«  No."— Can  he  avoid  being  hindered  ?— ''  No." 
— Therefore  neither  can  he  be  free.  Confider  then, 
whether  we  have  nothing,  or  all,  in  our  own  Pow- 
er alone,  or  whether  fome  Things  are  in  our  own 
Power  and  fome  in  that  of  others.— ^'  What  do  you 

"  mean?" When  you  would  have  your  Body 

pcrfed,   is  it  in  your  own  Power,   or  is  it  not  ^. — 
^  ^       X  3  "  ^^ 


5 lO  The  Discourses  of         Book IV. 

'*  It  is  not." When  you  would  be  healthy  ? — 

**  Nor  this.*' When  vou  would  be  handfome  ? 

— "  Nor  this." Live  or  die  .? "  Nor  this." 

Body  then  is  not  our  own  •,  but  fubjed:  to  eve- 
ry thing  flronger  than  itfelf. — '^  Agreed.'* — Well  : 
is  it  in  your  own  Power  to  have  an  Eftate  when 
you  pleafe,  and  as  long  as  you  pleafe,  and  (iich  a 
one  as  you  pleafe.? — ''  No." — Slaves  .f^—'^ No." — 
Clothes  .?— "  No."— A  Houfe  ?— "  No  "— Horfes  } 

*'  Indeed  none  of  thefe." Well :    if  you  would 

ever  fo  fain  have  your  Children  live,  or  your  Wife, 
or  your  Brother,  or  your  Friends,  is  it  in  your  ov/n 

Power.? — ''  No,  nor  this." Will  you  fay  then, 

that  there  is  nothing  independent,  which  is  in  your 
own  Power  alone,  and  unalienable  .?  See  then,  if 
you  have  any  thi.ig  of  this  fort. — ^"  I  do  not  know." 

i But,  confider  it  thus  :  Can  any  one  make  you 

alTent  to  a  Falfhood.? '^  No  one." In  the 

Topic  of  AfTent  then,  you  are  unreflrained  and  un- 
hindered.  "  Agreed:" Well:  and  can  any 

one  compel  1  you  to  exert  your  Purfuits,    towards 

what  you  do  not  like  .? • "  He  can.     For  when . 

*'  he  threatens  me  with  Death,  or  Fetters,  he  com- 

*'  pells  me  to  exert  them." If  then  you  were  to 

defpife  dying,  or  being  fettered,  would  you  any 
longer  regard  him.? — *'  Ko."— Is  defpifmg  Death 
then  an  Adion  in  our  Power,  or  is  it  not .? — "  It 
*'  is." — Is  it  therefore  in  your  Power  alfo,  to  exert 
your  Purfuits  towards  any  thing,  or  is  it  not .?— — 
*'  Agreed,  that  it  is.  But  in  whofe  Power  is  my 
*'  avoiding  any  thing  ?" — This  too  is  in  your  own. 
— "  What  then,  if,  when  I  am  exerting  myfelf  to 
*'  walk,  any  one  fliould  reflrain  me .?" — What 
Part  of  you  can  he  reflrain  ?  Can  he  reftrain  your 
AlTent.? — "  No  :  but  my  Body." — Ay,  as  he  may 
a  Stone, — "  Be  it  fo.  But  ftill  I  walk  no  more." 
—And  who  told  you,  that  Walking  was  an  Adion 
of  your  own,  that  cannot  be  retrained  ?  For  I 
only  faid,    that  your  exerting  yourfelf  towards  it 

could 


Chap.  I.  EPICTETUS.  311 

could  not  be  reftrained.  But  where  there  is  need 
of  Body,  and  its  Afliflance,  you  have  already  heard, 

that  nothing  is  in  your  Power. •*'  Be  this  too 

"  agreed.'! And  can  any  one  compell  you  to 

defire  againfl  your  Will? ^'  No  one.*' Or 

to  propofe,  or  intend,  or,  in  fhort,  not  to  make 
ufe  of  the  Appearances  which  prefent  themfelves  to 

you  ^ "  Nor  this.     But  when  I  defire  any  thing, 

"  he  will  refbrain  me  from  obtaining  what  I  de- 
"  fne.*' — If  you  defire  any  thing  that  is  your  own, 
and  that  cannot  be  retrained,  how  can  He  reftrain 
you  ? — "  By  no  means." — And  pray  who  tells  you, 
that  he  who  defires  what  depends  on  another,  can- 
not be  reftrained  ^ "  May  not  I  defire  Health 

"  then  .i^" By  no  means *:    nor  any  thing  elfe 

that  depends  on  another :  for  what  is  not  in  your 
own  Power,  either  to  procure,  or  to  preferve,  when 
you  will,  tbai  belongs  to  another.  Keep  off  not 
only  your  Hands  from  it,  but,  far  prior  to  thefe, 
your  Defires.  Otherwife  you  have  given  yourfelf 
up  a  Slave :  you  have  put  your  Neck  under  the 
Yoke,  if  you  admire  any  of  the  Things  not  your 
own,    but  fubjed:  and  mortal,    to  which  foever  of 

them  you  are  attached. '^  Is  not  my  Hand  my 

"  own  .^" It  is  a  Part  of  you ;  but  it  is,  by  Na- 
ture, Clay  ;  liable  to  Reftraint,  to  Compulfion  ;  a 
Slave  to  every  thing  flronger  than  itfelf.  And  why 
do  I  fay  your  Hand  P  You  ought  to  polTefs  your 
whole  Body  as  a  paultry  Afs,  with  a  Pack-faddle  on, 
as  long  as  may  be,  as  long  as  it  is  allowed  you. 
But,  if  there  (liould  come  a  Prefs  (o)^  and  a  Soldier 
fhould  lay  hold  on  it,  let  it  go.  Do  not  refift^,  or 
murmur  :  otherwife  you  will  be  firft  beat,  and  lofe 
the  Afs  after  all.  And,  fince  you  arc  to  confider 
the  Body  [itfelf]  in  this  manner,  think  what  re- 
mains to  do,  concerning  thofe  Things  which  are 
provided  for  the  Sake  of  the  Body.  If  that  be  an 
X  4  Afs, 

(0)  Beads  of  Burthen  and  Carriages  arc  prefTed,    for  the  Ufc 
of  Armies,  when  Need  requires. 


3  f  ^  'The  Discourses  of         Book  IV. 

Afs,  the  reft  are  Bridles,  Pack-faddles,  Shoes,  Oats, 
Hay,  for  the  Als.  Let  thefe  go-  too.  Quit  them 
more  eafily  and  expeditioufly,  than  the  Afs.  And 
when  you  are  thus  prepared,  and  thus  exercifed,  to 
diftinguifh  what  belongs  to  others  from  your  own  ; 
what  is  liable  to  Reftraint,  from  what  is  not ;  to 
efteem  the  one  your  own  Property,  the  other  not ; 
to  keep  your  Defire,  to  keep  your  Averfion,  care- 
fully turned  to  this  Point ;  whom  have  you  any  lon- 
ger to  fear  ? — "  No  one." — For  about  what  Ihould 
you  be  afraid  ?  About  what  is  your  own,  in  which 
confifts  the  Elfence  of  Good  and  Evil  ?  And  who 
hath  any  Power  over  this  f  Who  can  take  it  away  ? 
Who  can  hinder  you  ?  No  more  than  God  [can  be 
hindered].  But  are  you  afraid  for  Body,  for  Pbf- 
feflions,  for  what  belongs  to  others,  for  what  is  no- 
thing to  you  ?  And  what  have  you  been  ftudying  all 
this  while,  but  to  diilinguilh  between  your  own, 
and  not  your  own ;  what  is  in  your  Power,  and 
what  is  not  in  your  Power  ;  what  is  liable  to  Re- 
ftraint,. and  what  is  not  ?  And  for  what  Purpofe 
have  you  applied  to  the  Philofophers  ?  That  you 
might  be  never  the  lefs  difappointed  and  unfortu- 
nate ^  No  doubt  you  will  be  exempt  from  Fear  and 
Perturbation !  And  what  is  Grief  to  you  ?  For  [no- 
thing but]  what  we  fear,  when  expeded,  afFeds  us 
with  Grief,  when  prefent.  And  v/hat  will  you  any 
longer  pallionately  wilh  for  ?  For  you  have  a  tem- 
perate and  fteady  Defire  of  Things- dependent  on 
Choice,  as  they  are  good,  and  prefent :  and  you 
have  no  Defire  of  Things  independent  on  Choice, 
fo  as  to  leave  room  for  that  irrational  and  impetu- 
ous, and  immoderately  hafty  Palfion. 

§.  12.  Since  then  you  are  thus  afFefled  with  re- 
gard to  ThiK'gs^  v/hat  Man  can  any  longer  be  for- 
midable to  you }  What  hath  Man  formidable  to 
Man^  either  in  Appearance,  or  Speech,  or  mutual 
Intercourfe  .?  No  more  than  Horfe  to  Horfe,  or  Dog 
to  Dog,  or  Bee  to  Bee.     But  Things  are  formidable 

to 


Chap.  I.  E  P  IC  T  E  T  U  S.  ^^^ 

to  every  one,  and  when-ever  any  Perfon  can  either 
confer  or  take  away  thefe  from  another,  He  becomes 
formidable  too.—"  How  (p)  then  is  the  Citadel'* 
[the  Seat  of  Tyranny]  "  to  be  deflroyed  ?"—Not 
by  Sword  or  Fire,  but  by  Principle.  For  if  we 
fhould  demoliCh  that  which  is  in  the  Town,  fhall 
we  have  demoliflied  alfo  that  of  a  Fever,  of  pretty 
Girls,  in  (hort,  the  Citadel  within  ourfelves;  and 
turned  out  the  Tyrants,  to  whom  we  are  fubjea: 
upon  all  Occafions,  every  Day ;  fometimcs  the  fame 
fometimes  others  ?  From  hence  v/e  mud  begin  •' 
from  hence  demolilli  the  Citadel ;  turn  out  the 
Tyrants:  give  up  Body,  its  Parts,  Riches,  Power 
Fame,  Magiftracies,  Honours,  Children,  Brothers' 
Friends:  efleem  all  thefe  as  belonging  to  others' 
And,  if  the  Tyrants  be  turned  out  from  hence* 
why  fliould  I  befides  demolifh  the  [external]  Cita- 
del ;  at  leafl,  on  my  ov/n  account  ?  For  what  doth 
It  do  to  me  by  (landing  ?  Why  fhould  1  turn  out  the 
Guards  ?  For  in  what  Point  do  they  affed  me  P  It 
IS  againfl  others  they  dired  their  Fafces,  their  Staves 
and  their  Swords.  Have  I  ever  been  retrained 
trom  what  I  willed  ;  or  compelled  againfl  my  Will  ? 
Indeed  how  is  this  pofTible  ?  I  have  ranged  my  Pur' 
fuits  under  the  Diredion  of  God.  Is  it  His  Will 
that  I  fhould  have  a  Fever  ?  It  is  my  Will  too  Is 
it  His  Will,  that  I  fhould  purfue  any  Thing  ^  It  is 
my  Will  too.  Is  it  His  Will  that  I  ihould  defire  ? 
It  is  my  Will  too.     Is  it  His  Will,  that  I  fhould  ob- 

WM1  f  7  '^^'"^  •  .^^  ^'  ^^"^  ^°^-  ^s  it  not  His 
Will  ?  It  is  not  mine.  Is  it  his  Will,  that  I  fhould 
be  tortured  (^)  ?  Then  it  is  my  Will  to  be  tortu- 
red.   Is  It  his  Will,  that  I  fhould  die .?  Then  it  is 

my 

M  Epiaetush^v^  perfonates  one  defirous  of  recovering  the 
Liberty  of  the  City,  m  which  he  Jives.  There  were  Citfdels! 
erecled  from  time  to  time  in  Greek  Cities,  to  fupport  Tyrants- 

(?)  The  Tranllation  here  is  agreeable  to  Mr.  U/,ion's  Copy. 


SI 4-  ^^^  Discourses  of      Book  IV. 

my  Will  to  die.  Who  can  any  longer  reflrain  or 
compel  1  me,  contrary  to  my  own  Opinion  ?  No 
more  than  Jupiter  [can  be  reflrained].  It  is  thus 
that  cautious  Travellers  ac"t.  Doth  any  one  hear, 
that  the  Road  is  befet  by  Robbers  ?  He  doth  not 
fet  out  alone  -,  but  waitb  for  the  Retinue  of  an  Em- 
bafTador,  or  Qiiaeflor,  or  a  Proconful :  and,  when 
he  hath  joined  himfelf  to  their  Company,  goes  along 
in  Safety.  Thus  doth  the  prudent  Man  act  in  the 
World.  There  are  many  Robberies,  Tyrants, 
Storms,  Diflreifes,  Lofies  of  Things  the  moll  dear. 
Where  is  there  any  Refuge  ?  How  can  he  go  along 
unattacked  ?  What  Retinue  can  he  wait  for,  to  go 
fafely  through  his  Journey  ?  To  what  Company 
join  himfeif .''  To  fome  rich  Man  .^  To  fome  Con- 
fular  Senator  ?  And  what  Good  will  that  do  me  ? 
He  is  [often]  flript  himfelf ;  groans  and  laments. 
And  what  if  my  Fel low-Traveller  himfelf  fhould 
turn  againft  me,  and  rob  me  ?  What  fhall  I  do  ?  I 
will  be  the  Friend  of  Cdefar,  While  I  am  his  Com- 
panionj,  no  one  will  injure  me.  Yet,  before  I  can 
become  illuftrious  enough  for  this,  what  mud  I 
bear  and  fufFer !  How  often,  and  by  how  many, 
muft  I  be  robbed!  And  then,  if  I  do  become  the 
Friend  of  C^/^/r,  he  too  is  mortal :  and  if,  by  any 
Accident,  he  fhould  become  my  Enemy,  where 
can  I  befh  retreat  ?  To  a  Defart  ?  Well :  and  doth 
not  a  Fever  come  there }  What  can  be  done  then  ? 
Is  it  not  poflible  to  find  a  Fellow-Traveller,  fafe, 
faithful,  brave,  incapable  of  being  furprifed  ?  A 
Perfon,  who  reafons  thus,  underftands  and  confi- 
ders,  that,  if  he  joins  himfelf  to  God,  he  fhall  go 
fafely  through  his  Journey.———''  How  do  you 

*'  mean,  join  himfelf.^" — That  whatever  is 

the  Will  of  God,  may  be  his  Will  too  :    whatever 

is  not  the  Will  of  God,  may  not  be  his.^ ''  How 

*'  then  can  this  be  done  P" Why,  how  otherwife 

than  by  confidering  the  Exertions  of  God's  Power, 
and    his  Adminiftration  \    What   hath  he  given 

me, 


Chap.  I.         E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  315 

me,  my  own,  and  independent  ?  What  hath  he 
referved  to  himfelf  ?  He  hath  given  me  whatever 
depends  upon  Choice.  The  Things  in  my  Power 
he  hath  made  incapable  of  Hindrance  or  Reftraint. 
But  how  could  he  make  a  Body  of  Clay  (r)  irxapa- 
ble  of  Hindrance  ?  Therefore  he  hach  fubjeded 
[that,  and]  Poflellions,  Furniture,  Houfe,  Children, 
Wife,  to  the  Revolution  of  the  Univerfe.  Why 
then  do  I  fight  againfl  God  ?  W  hy  do  I  will  to  re- 
tain what  depends  not  on  Will  ?  What  is  not 
granted  abfolutely  *,  but  how  ?  In  fuch  a  Manner, 
and  for  fuch  a  Time,  as  was  thought  proper.  But 
he  who  gave,  takes  away  (s).  Why  then  do  I  re- 
fill ?  Not  to  fay,  that  I  (hall  be  a  Fool  in  contend- 
ing with  a  ftronger  than  myfelf ;  what  is  a  prior 
Confideration,  I  (hall  beunjuft.  For  whence  had  I 
thefe  Things,  when  I  came  into  the  World }  My 
Father  gave  them  to  me.  And  M'ho  gave  them  to 
him?  And  who  made  the  Sun  }  Who,  the  Fruits  ? 
Who,  the  Seafons  ?  Who,  their  Connexion  and 
Relation  to  each  other  ?  And,  after  you  have  re- 
ceived all,  and  even  your  very  Self  from  another, 
are  you  angry  with  the  Giver ;  and  complain,  if 
He  takes  any  thing  away  from  you  P  Who  are  you  ; 
and  for  what  Purpofe  did  you  come  ?  Was  it  not 
He  who  brought  you  here  P  Was  it  not  He  who 
fhowed  you  the  Light }  Hath  not  He  given  you 
Afliftants  ?  Hath  not  He  given  you  Senfes  ?  Hath 
not  He  given  you  Reafon  ?  And  as  whom  did  He 
bring  you  here  }  Was  it  not  as  a  Mortal  ?  Was  it 
not  as  one  to  live,  with  a  little  Portion  of  Fledi 
upon  Earth,  and  to  fee  his  Admin iflration  ;  to  be- 
liold  the  Spe<5tacle  with  him,  and  partake  of  the 
Feflival  for  a  fhort  Time  ?  After  having  beheld  the 
Spectacle,  and  the  Solemnity,  then,  as  long  as  it  is 
permitted  you,  will  you  not  depart,  when  He  leads 

you 

(r)  SeeB.  I.  c.  i.  f  5. 

(s)  The  Lordga've,  and  the  Lord  bath  taken  away.  Job  \.  21, 


2)6  The  Discourses  of        Book  IV. 

you  out,  adoring  and  thankful  for  what  you  have 

heard  and    feen  ? ''  No  :  but  I  would  enjoy 

*'  the  Feafl  ftill  longer." So  would  the  Ini- 
tiated too  be  longer  in  their  Initiation ;  fo,  perhaps, 
would  the  Spedators  at  Olympia  fee  more  Comba- 
tants. But  the  Solemnity  Is  over.  Go  away.  De^ 
part,  like  a  grateful  and  modefl  Perfon  :  make 
room  for  others.  Others  too  muft  be  born,  as  you 
were  ;  and,  when  they  are  born,  mufh  have  a  Place, 
and  Habitations,  and  NecefTaries.  But,  if  the  firfl 
do  not  give  way,  what  [Room]  is  there  left  ?  Why 
are  you  infatiable  ?     Why  are  you  unconfcionable  ? 

Why  do  you  crowd  the  World? "  Ay:  but  I 

*'  would  have  my  Wife  and  Children  with  me  too." 

>■  W  hy,  are   xh^^^  your's?     Are  they  not  the 

Giver's!^     Are  they  not  His  who  mz^^ you  alfo  ? 

Will  you  not  quit  what  belongs  to  another  then  ? 

Will  you  not  yield  to  your  Superior  ? "  Why 

"  then  did  he  bring  me  into  the  World  upon  thefe 

*'  Conditions?" Well:  if  it  is  not  worth  your 

while,  depart  {t).  He  hath  no  Need  of  a  discon- 
tented Spectator.  He  wants  fuch  as  may  fhare  the 
Feflival;  make  Part  of  the  Chorus:  who  may  ra- 
ther extoll,  applaud,  celebrate  the  Solemnity  :  He 
will  not  be  difpleafcd  to  fee  the  Wretched  and  Fear- 
ful difmified  from  it.  For,  when  they  were  prefent, 
they  did  not  behave  as  at  a  Feflival,  nor  fill  a  pro- 
per Place ;  but  lamented,  found  fault  with  the 
Deity,  Fortune,  their  Companions  :  infenlible  both 
of  their  Advantages^  and  their  Powers,  which  they 

received 

[t)  And  is  this  all  the  Comfort,  every  ferious  Reader  will  be 
apt  CO  fay,  which  one  of  the  bed  Philofophers,  in  one  of  his 
nobleft  Difcourfes,  can  give  to  the  good  Man  under  fevere  Dif- 
irefs  ?  *'  Either  tell  yourfelf,  that  prefent  Suffering,  void  of 
*•  future  Hope,  is  no  Evil ;  or  give  up  your  Ex^'ftence,  and 
"mingle  with  the  Elements  of  the  Univerfe  !'*  Unfpeakabiy 
more  rational,  and  more  worthy  of  infinite  Goodnefs,  is  our 
bleffed  Matter's  Exhortation  to  the  perfecuted  Chriftian  :  **  Re- 
"  joice,  and  be  exceeding  glad,  for  great  lis  your  Reward  in 
*'  "Heaven." 


Chap.  I.         E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  317 

received  for  contrary  Purpofes ;  the  Powers  of 
Magnanimity,  Noblenefs  of  Spirit,  Fortitude,  and 
the  Subjedt  of  prefent  Enquiry,  Freedom. — ''  P'or 
"  what  Purpofe  then  have  1  received  thefe  Things  ?" 

■To  ufe  them. "  How  long  ?" As  long 

as  He,  who  lent  them,  pleafes.  If  then  they  are 
not  neceffary,  do  not  attach  yourfelf  to  them,  and 
they  will  not  be  fo :  do  not  tell  yourfelf,  that  they 
are  necellary,  and  they  are  not. 

§.  I  g.  This  fhould  be  our  Study  from  Morning 
till  Night,  beginning  from  the  leafl  and  frailelt 
Things,  from  an  earthen  VefTel,  from  a  Glafs.  Af- 
terwards, proceed  to  a  Suit  of  Clothes,  a  Dog  a 
Horfe,  an  Eftate  :  from  thence  to  your  Self,  Body, 
Parts  of  the  Body,  Children,  .Wife,  Brothers.  Look 
every-where  around  you,  and  throw  them  from 
yourfelf  Corredt  your  Principles.  See  that  no- 
thing cleave  to  you,  which  is  not  your  own ;  no- 
thing grow  (u)  to  you,  that  may  give  you  Pain^ 
when  it  is  torn  away.  And  fay,  when  you  are  daily 
exercifmg  yourfelf  as  you  do  here,  not  that  you  a(i 
the  Philofopher  (admit  this  to  be  an  infolent  Tide), 
but  that  you  are  afferting  your  Freedom.  For  this 
is  true  Freedom.  This  is  the  Freedom,  that  Dio- 
genes  gained  from  Antifthenes ;  and  declared,  it  was 
impoHible,  that  he  fhould  ever  after  be  a  Slave,  to 
any  one.  Hence,  when  he  was  taken  Prifbner, 
how  did  he  treat  the  Pirates  }  Did  he  call  any  of 
them  Mailer  ?  (I  do  not  mean  the  Name,  for  I  am 
not  afraid  of  a  Word,  but  the  Difpofition  from 
whence  the  Word  proceeds.)  How  did  he  reprove 
them  for  feeding  their  Prifbners  ill  \  How  was  he 
fold  }  Did  he  feek  a  Mafter  }  {w)  No  :  but  a  Slave. 
And  when  he  was  fold,  how  did  he  converfe  with 
his  Lord  ^  He  immediately  difputed  with  him, 
that  he  ought  not  to  be  drelfed  nor  fhaved  in  the 
manner  he  was ;    how  he  ought  to  bring  up  his 

Children, 

(u)  Mr.'Upton^s  ConJQ&mc, 
(iv)  Seep.  137,  Note  (c). 


3 1 8  Tlf  D  iscov  RSEs  of        Book  IV. 

Children.  And  where  is  the  Wonder  ?  For  if  the 
fame  Mafler  had  bought  an  Jnftrudor  for  his  Chil- 
dren, in  the  Exercifes  of  the  PaUftra^  would  he  in 
thofe  Exercifes  have  treated  him  as  a  Servant,  or  as 
a  Mafter  ?  And,  fo  if  he  had  bought  a  Phyfician 
or  an  Architect  ?  In  every  Subjed,  the  Skilful 
mufl  necelTarily  be  fupcrior  to  the  Unfkilful.  What 
elfe  then  can  he  be  but  Mafter,  who  poflelTes  the 
univerfal  Knowledge  of  Life  ?  For  who  is  Mafter 
m  a  Ship  ?     The  Pilot.    Why  ?     Becaufe  whoever 

difobeys  him  is  a  Lofer. ''  But  a  Mafter  can 

*'  put  me  in  Chains." Can  he  do  it  then  with- 
out being  a  Lofer  ^ ''  So  I,  among  others,  ufed 

*'  to  think.'' But,  becaufe  he  muft  be  a  Lofer, 

for  that  very  Reafon  it  is  not  in  his  Power  :  for  no 
one  ads  unjuftly,  without  being  a  Lofer. — "  And 
*'  what  Lofs  doth  he  fufFer,  who  puts  his  own  Slave 
"  in  Chains  ?" — What  think  you  }  The  very  put- 
ting him  in  Chains.  This  you  yourfelf  muft  grant, 
if  you  would  prelerve  the  Dodrine,  that  Man  is 
hot  a  wild,  but  a  gende  Animal.     P'or  when  is  it, 

that  a  Vine  is  in  a  bad  Condition  ? "  When  it 

"  is  in  a  Condition  contrary  to  its  Nature." 

When  a  Cock  ^ ''  The  fame." Therefore 

a  Man  too.  What  then  is  his  Nature  ?  To  bite, 
and  kick,  and  throw  into  Prifon,  and  cut  off 
Heads  ?  No :  but  to  do  good,  to  ailift,  to  indulge 
the  Wifties  of  others.  Whether  you  will,  or  not 
then,  he  is  in  a  bad  Condition,  when-ever  he  ads 

unreafonably. -"  And  fo,  was  not  Socrates  in  a 

*'  bad  Condition  .?" No :  but  his  Judges  and 

Accufers. *'  Nov  Hehic/ius,  at  Rome  ?'' No : 

but  his  Murderer.——"  How  do  you  talk  ?" 

{x)  Why,  juft  as  you  do.     You  do  not  call 

that  Cock  in  a  bad  Condition,  which  is  vidorious, 
and  wounded ;  but  that  which  is  conquered,  and 

comes 
(*)  The  Tranflation  here  follows  a  different  Pointing  from 


Chap.  I.  E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  319 

comes  off  unhurt.  Nor  do  you  call  a  Dog  happy, 
which  neither  hunts  nor  toils ;  but  when  you  fee 
him  fweating,  and  in  pain,  and  panting,  with  the 
Chace.  In  what  do  we  talk  Paradoxes  ?  If  we 
fay,  that  the  Evil  of  every  thing  conlifts  in  what  is 
contrary  to  its  Nature,  is  this  a  i^aradox?  Do  not 
you  fay  it  with  regard  to  all  other  Things  ?  Why 
therefore,  in  the  Cafe  of  Man  alone,  do  you  take  a 
different  Turn  ?  But  farther :  it  is  no  Paradox  to 
fay,  that  by  Nature  Man  is  gentle,  and  focial,  and 

faithful. "  This  is  (y)  none  neither/' 

How  then  [is  it  a  Paradox  to  fay,'J  that,  when  he  is 
whipped,  or  imprifoned,  or  beheaded,  he  is  not 
hurt  ?  If  he  fuffers  nobly,  doth  not  he  come  off 
even  the  better,  and  a  Gajner  ?  But  he  is  the 
Perfon  hurt,  who  fuffers  the  mofl  miferable  and 
ftiameful  Evils :  who,  inftead  of  a  Man,  becomes 
a  Wolf,  or  Viper,  or  a  Hornet. 

§.  14.  Come  then:  let  us  recapitulate  what  hath 
been  granted.  The  Man  who  is  unreflrained,  who 
hath  all  Things  in  his  Power  as  he  wills,  is  free  : 
but  he  who  may  be  reflrained,  or  compelled,  or 
hindered,    or  thrown   into  any  Condition  againft 

his   Will,    is  a  Slave. "  And   who  is    unre- 

*'  drained  ^ " He  that  dehres  none  of  thofe 

Thing,   that  belong  to  others. "  And    what 

*'  are  thofe  Things,     which  belong  to   others  .'*'* 

Thofe  which   are    not   in  our  own    Power, 

either  to  have,  or  not  to  have ;  or  to  have  them 
of  fuch  a  Sort,  or  in  fuch  a  State.  Body,  there- 
fore, belongs  to  another ;  its  Parts,  to  another ; 
Poffeflions,  to  another.  If  then  you  attach  your- 
felf  to  any  of  thefe  as  your  ov/n,  you  will  be  pu- 
nidied,  as  he  deferves,.  who  defires  v/hat  belongs 
to  others.  This  is  the  Way,  that  leads  to  Free- 
dom ; 

(y)  This  Anfwer  implies  a  filent  ConceiHon,  that  it  is  no 
Paradox  to  affirm,  the  Evil  of  every  thing  to  conlift,  in  what 
is  contrary  to  its  Nature. 


320  The  Discourses  of        Book  IV. 

dom ;   this  the  only   DeHverance  from   Slavey  ; 
to  be  able   at  length  to  fay,  from  the  Bottom  of 

one's  Soul, 

Conduct  me^  Jove,  and  thou^  O  Deftiny, 
Where- ever  Tour  Decrees  have  fix' d  my  Lot. 

§.  15.  But  what  fay  you,  Philofopher  ?     A  Ty- 
rant fummons  you  to  fpeak  fbmething  unbecoming 

you.     Will  you  fay  it,  or  will  you  not  ? "  Stay, 

*'  let  metonfider.*' Would  you  confider  now? 

And  what  did  you  ufe  to  confider,  when  you  were 
in  the  Schools  ?     Did  not  you  Study  what  Things 

are  good,  and  evil,  and  what  indifferent  ?- 

"  I  did." Well :  and  what  were  the  Opinions 

which   pleafed   us  ? "  That  juft  and  (zj  fair 

*'  Adlions  were  good  ;  unjuft  and  bafe  ones,  evil.'* 

• Is  living  a  Good  ? "  No." Dying,  an 

Evil  ? "  No." A  Prifon  ? ''  No." 

And  what  did  a  mean  and  difhonefl  Speech,  the 
betraying  a  Friend,  or  the  flattering  a  Tyrant,  ap- 
pear to  us  .?■ '*  Evils.'* — Why  then  are 

you  ftill  confidering,  and  have  not  already  confi- 
dered,  and  come  to  a  Refblution  }  For  what  Sort 
of  a  Confideration  is  this  }  Whether  I  ought ^  when 
it  is  in  my  Power  ^  to  procure  my f elf  the  great  eft  Goody 
inflead  of  procuring  myfelf  the  greateft  Evil.  A  fine 
and  neceflary  Confideration,  truly,  and  deferving 
mighty  Deliberation  !  Why  do  you  trifle  with  us, 
Man  ?  There  never  was  any  fuch  Point  confidcr- 
ed  :  nor,  if  you  really  imagined  what  was  fair  andt 
honeft  to  be  good,  what  bafe  and  difhoneft,  evil, 
and  all  other  Things  indifferent,  would  you  ever  be 
at  fuch  a  Stand  as  this,  or  near  it :  but  you  would; 
prefently  be  able  to' diftinguilh,  by  your  Under-; 
(landing,  as  you  do  by  your  Sight.  For  do  yoii 
ever  confider,  whether  black  is  white:  or  light^j 
heavy  ?     Do  not  you  follow  the  plain  Evidence 

yoi 


(z)  The  Tranflation  here  follows  Mr.  Upton'g  Conje^urc* 


1 


Chap.  I.         E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  321 

your  Senfes  ?  Why  then  do  you  fay,  that  you  are 
now  confidering,  whether  Things  indifferent  are  to 
be  avoided,  rather  than  Evils  ?  The  Truth  is, 
you  have  no  Principles  :  for  neither  doth  the  one 
Sort  of  Things  appear  to  you  indifferent,  but  the 
greatefl  Evils  ;  nor  the  other  Evils,  but  Matters 
of  no  Concern  to  you.  For  thus  you  have  accuf^ 
tomed  yourfelf  from  the  firfl.  ''  Where  am  I  ? 
''  In  the  School  ^  And  is  there  an  Audience  ^  I 
*'  talk  as  the  Philofophers  do.  But  am  I  got  out 
"  from  the  School  ?  Away  with  this  Stuff,  that 
^'  belongs  only  to  Scholars  and  Fools.  This  Man 
''  is  accufed  by  the  Teftimony  of  a  Philofopher, 
"  his  Friend:  this  Philofopher  turns  Parafite  ;  thac 
*'  hires  himfelf  out  for  Money;  a  third  doth  it 
"  in  the  very  Senate.  Who  doth  not  wifh  what 
*'  appears  [to  himfelf  to  be  right]  ?     His  {a)  Prin- 

"  ciples  exclaim  from    within." You  are  a 

poor  cold  Lump  of  Opinion,  confiding  of  mere 
Words ;  on  which  you  hang,  as  by  a  Hair.  But 
preferve  yourfelf  firm,  and  make  a  due  U(e  of  the 
Appearances ;  remembering,  that  you  are  to  be 
exercifed  in  Things.  In  what  manner  do  you  hear, 
I  do  not  fay,  that  your  Child  is  dead,  (for  how 
fhould  you  bear  that  r)  but  that  your  Oil  is  fpilled, 
your  Wine  drank  out.''  lliat  any  one,  while  you 
are  bawling,  might  only  fay  this ;  "  Philofopher, 
^'  you  talk  otherwife  in  the  Schools.  Why  do  you 
*'  deceive  us  ?  Why,  when  you  are  a  Worm,  do 
*^  you  call  yourfelf  a  Man  ?"  I  fhould  be  glad  to 
be  near  one  of  thefe  Philofopher?,  v/hile  he  is  re- 
velling in  Debauchery,  that  I  might  fee  how  he 
exerts  himfelf,  and  what  Sayings  he  utters;  whether 
he  remembers  his  Title,  and  the  Diicourfes  which 
he  hears,  or  fpeaks,  or  reads. 


(a)  There  is  much  Obfcurity,  and  fome  Variety  of  Readi 
in  feveral  Lines  of  the  Original,  in   this  Place;  and  I  am 


J - _..^...-..,  , not 

certain,  whether  the  Tranflation  hath  given  the  true  Senfe  ;  but 
it  is  the  beft  I  could  make  of  it. 

Y  ^.16. 


322  ne  Discourses    of       Book  IV. 

§.  1 6.  '*  And  what  is  all  this  to  Freedom?" 

Truly  nothing  elfe  is,  but  this,  whether  you  rich 

People  will  or  not. *'  And  who  is   your  Evi- 

*'  dence  of  this?" Who,  but  yourfelves  ?  Who 

have  a  powerful  Mafler,  and  live  by  his  Motion 
and  Nod,  and  faint  away,  if  he  doth  but  look 
fternly  upon  you  :  who  pay  your  Court  to  oJd  Men, 
and  old  Women,  and  fay,  *'  I  cannot  do  this,  it  is 
*'  not  in  my  Power."  Why  is  it  not  in  your  Pow- 
er ?     Did  not  you  jufl  now  contradidl   me,  and 

fay,  you  were  free  ? "  But   Aprylla   (b)  hath 

*'  forbid  me." Speak  the  Truth  then.  Slave, 

and  do  not  run  away  from  your  Maflers ;  nor  deny 
them,  nor  dare  to  alTert  your  Freedom,  when  you 
have  fo  many  Proofs  of  your  Slavery.  One  might 
indeed  find  fbme  Excufe  for  a  Perfon,  compelled 
by  Love  to  do  fomething  contrary  to  his  Opinion, 
even  when  at  the  fame  time  he  fees  what  is  bed, 
and  yet  hath  not  Refolution  enough  to  follow  it ; 
hnce  he  is  with-held  by  fomething  violent,  and  in 
fome  meafure,  divine.  But  who  can  bear  you, 
who  are  in  Love  with  old  Men  and  old  Women  ; 
and  wipe  their  Nofes,  and  wafh  them,  and  bribe 
them  with  Prefents,  and  wait  upon  them  when 
they  are  fick,  like  a  Slave  \  at  the  fame  time  wifhing 
they  may  die,  and  enquiring  of  the  Phyfician,  whe- 
ther their  Diflemper  be  yet  mortal  ?  And  again, 
when  for  thefe  great  and  venerable  Magiflracies  and 
Flonours,  you  kifs  the  Hands  of  •  the  Slaves  of 
others  ;  fo  that  you  are  the  Slave  of  thofe  who  are 
not  free  themfelves!  And  then  you  walk  about  in 
State,  a  Prsetor,  or  a  Conful.  Do  not  I  know  how 
you  came  to  be  Praetor  ;  whence  you  received  the 
Confulfhip  ;  who  gave  it  you  ?  For  my  own  Part, 
I  would  not  even  live,  if  I  muft  live  by  Felicio's 
Means,  and  bear  his  Fride,  and  flavifh  Infolence. 
For  I  know  what  a  Slave  is,  blinded  by  what  he 
thinks  good  Fortune.  §•  i?- 

(b)  Probably  fome  rich  old  Woman,  from  whom  the  Speak- 
er had  Expectations. 


Chap.  I.        EPICTETUS.  523 

§.  17.  Are  you  free  yourfelf  then  ?  (It  will  be 
faid.)  By  Heaven  I  wifh  and  pray  for  it.  But  I 
cannot  yet  face  my  M afters.  I  ftill  pay  a  Regard 
to  my  Body,  and  fet  a  great  Value  on  keeping  it 
whole ;  though  at  the  fame  time  it  is  not  whole  (c). 
But  I  can  fhow  you  one  who  was  free,  that  you 
may  no  longer   feek  an  Example.     Diogenes  was 

free. ''   How  fo  V Not    becaufe    he 

was  of  free  Parents,  for  he  was  not :  but  becaufe 
he  was  fb  himfelf ;  becaufe  he  had  call  away  all  the 
Handles  of  Slavery ;  nor  was  there  any  Way  of 
getting  at  him,  nor  any-where  to  lay  hold  on  him, 
to  enflave  him.  Every  thing  fat  loofe  upon  him, 
every  thing  only  jufb  hung  on.  If  you  took  hold 
on  his  PoffelTions,  he  would  rather  let  them  go,  than 
follow  you  for  them  :  if  on  his  Leg,  he  let  go  his 
Leg  :  if  his  Body,  he  let  go  his  Body  :  Acquaint- 
ance, Friends,  Country,  juft  the  fame.  For  he 
knew  whence  he  had  them,  and  from  whom,  and 
upon  what  Conditions  he  received  them.  But  he 
would  never  have  forfaken  his  true  Parents  the 
Gods,  and  his  real  Country ;  nor  have  fuffered  any 
one  to  be  more  dutiful  and  obedient  to  them  than 
he  :  nor  would  any  one  have  died  more  readily  for 
his  Country  than  he.  For  he  never  fought  when 
it  would  be  proper  for  him  to  adl  for  the  fake  of 
(d)  any  thing  elfe,  [except  his  real  Country  the 
Univerfe  •,]  but  he  remembered,  that  every  thing 
that  exifts  is  from  thence,  and  carried  on  by  it, 
and  commanded  by  its  Ruler.  Accordingly,  fee 
what  he  himfelf  fays  and  writes.  "  Upon  this  Ac- 
"  count,  fays  he,  O  Diogenes^  it  is  in  your  Power 
"  to  converfe  as  you  will  with  the  Ferfian  Mo- 
*'  narch,  and  with  Archidamus^  King  of  the  Lace- 
*'  demonians.^'  ■  Was  it  becaufe  he  was  born 

Y  2  of 

[c]  EpiSIetus  here  alludes  to  his  own  Lamenefs.  See  p.  28 
and  50. 

[d)  This  Paflage  hath  great  Difficulties  in  the  Original.  I 
have  given  it  what  appeared  to  me  the  bell  Senfe.  But  I  am 
ftill  doubtful. 


324-  ^^^  Discourses  0/         Book IV. 

of  free  Parents  ?  Or  was  it  becaufe  they  were  de- 
Icended  from  Slaves,  that  all  the  Athenians^  and 
all  the  Lacedemonians^  and  Corinthians^  could  not 
converfe  v/ith  them  as  they  pleafed  *,  but  feared 
and  paid  Court  to  them  ?  Why  then  is  it  in  your 
Power,  Diogenes  ?  ''  Becaufe  I  do  not  efleem  this 
"  forry  Body  as  my  own.  Becaufe  1  want  nothing. 
"  Becaufe  thefe  [Principles,]  and  nothing  elie,  are 
*'  a  Law  to  me.'*  Thcfe  were  the  Things  that 
fufFered  him  to  be  free. 

§.  18.  And  that  you  may  not  think,  that  I 
fhow  you  the  Example  of  a  Man  clear  of  Incum- 
brances ;  v/ithout  a  Wife  or  Children,  or  Country 
or  Friends,  or  Relations,  to  bend  and  draw  him 
afide:  \2ks,^o crates^  and  confider  him,  who  had  a 
Wife  and  Children,  but  not  as  his  own  \  a  Coun- 
try, Friends,  Relations  \  but  only  as  long  as  it  was 
proper,  and  in  the  manner  that  was  proper  \  and 
all  thefe  he  fubmitted  to  the  Law,  and  to  the  Obe- 
dience due  to  it.  Plence,  when  it  was  proper  to 
light,  he  was  the  firft  to  go  out,  and  expofed  him- 
felf  to  Danger,  without  the  lead  Referve.  But 
when  he  was  fent  by  the  Thirty  Tyrants  to  ap- 
prehend Leo  (e) ;  becaufe  he  efleemed  it  a  bafe 
Action,  he  did  not  deliberate  about  it ;  though  he 
knew,  that,  perhaps,  he  might  die  for  it.  But 
what  did  that  fignify  to  him  ?  For  it  was  fome- 
thing  elfe  that  he  wanted  to  preferve,  not  his  pad- 
try  Flefh :  but  hi^  Fidelity,  his  Honour,  free  from 
Attack,  or  Subjedion.  And  afterwards,  when  he 
was  to  make  a  Defence  for  his  Life,  doth  he  be- 
have like  one  who  had  Children  ^     Or   a  Wife  ? 

No: 

(e)  Socrates^  with  Four  other  Perfons,  was  commanded  hy 
the  Thirty  Tyrants  of  ^//^^w  to  fetch  Leo  from  the  Ki^oi  Sala- 
mis^  in  order  to  be  put  to  Death.  His  Companions  executed 
their  Commiflion  ;  but  Socrates  remained  at  home,  and  chofe 
rather  to  expofe  his  Life  to  the  Fury  of  the  Tyrants,  than  be 
accelfary  to  the  Death  of  an  innocent  Perfon.  He  would  mod 
probably  have  fallen  a  Sacrifice  to  their  Vengeance,  if  the  Oli- 
garchy had  not  Ihortly  after  been  diflblved.  See  FlatoV  Apology, 


Chap.  r.         E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  325 

No:  (f)  but  like  a  fingle  Man.  And  how  doth 
he  behave,  when  he  was  to  drink  the  Poifon  ? 
When  he  might  have  efcaped,  and  Crito  perfuaded 
him  to  get  out  of  Prifon,  for  the  Sake  of  his  Chil- 
dren, what  doth  he  fay?  Doth  he  efteemit  a  for- 
tunate Opportunity  ?  How  fhould  he  P  But  he  con- 
fiders  what  is  becomiing,  and  neither  fees  nor  regards 
any  thing  elfe.  "  For  I  am  not  defirous,  fays  he,  to 
"  preferve  this  pitiful  Body  ;  but  that  [Part  of  me] 
*'  which  is  improved  and  preferved  by  Juftice,  and 
"'impaired  and  deflroyed  by  Injufticew"  Socrates 
is  not  to  be  bafely  preferved.  He,  who  refufed  to 
vote  for  what  the  Athenians  commanded  :  he,  who 
contemned  the  Thirty  Tyrants:  he,  who  held  fuch 
Difcourfes  on  Virtue,  and-  moral  Beauty  :  fuch  a 
Man  is  not  to  be  preferved  by  a  bale  Adion  ;  but 
is  preferved  by  dying,  not  by  running  away.  For 
even  a  good  Ador  is  preferved  by  leaving  off  when 
he  ought ;  not  by  going  on  to  adt  beyond  his  Time. 
''  What  then  will  become  of  your  Children  .^"  "  If 
*'  I  had  gone  away  into  l^bejjal)^^  you  would  have 
"  taken  care  of  them ;  and  will  there  be  no  one  to 
*'  take  care  of  them,  when  I  am  departed  to  Hades  T^ 
You  fee  how  he  ridicules,  and  plays  with  Death. 
But,  if  it  had  been  you  or  I,  we  iTiould  prefently 
have  proved,  by  philofophical  Arguments,  that 
thofe,  who  ad  unjuflly,  are  to  be  repaid  in  their 
own  Way  i  and  fhould  have  added,  "  1ft  efcape,  I 
"  fhall  be  of  Ufe  to  many  ;  if  I  die,  to  none."  Nay, 
if  it  had  been  neceffary,  we  fhould  have  crept 
through  a  Moufe-hole  to  get  away.  But  how  fhould 
vje  have  been  of  life  to  any  ?  For  where  mud 
they  have  dwelt }  If  we  were  ufeful  alive,  fliould 
we  not  be  of  itill  more  Ufe  to  Mankind,  by  dying  . 
when  we  ought,  and  as  we  ought }  And  now  the 
Remembrance  of  the  Death  of  Socraies  is  not  lefs, 
but  even  more  ufeful  to  the  World,  than  that  of 
^he  Things  which  he  did  and  faid  when  alive. 

(/J  Mr.  Uftan's  Copy. 


326  ^he  Discourses  of        Book  IV. 

§.  19.  Study  thefe  Points,  thefe  Principles,  thefe 
Difcourfes ;  contemplate  thefe  Examples,  if  you 
would  be  free,  if  you  defire  the  Thing  in  Proportion 
to  its  Value.  And  where  is  the  Wonder,  that  you 
Ihould  purchafe  fo  great  a  Thing  at  the  Price  of  o- 
thers,  fo  many,  and  fo  great  ?  Some  hang*them- 
felves,  others  break  their  Necks,  and  fometimes 
even  whole  Cities  have  been  deftroyed,  for  that* 
which  is  reputed  Freedom :  and  will  not  you,  for 
the  Sake  of  the  true,  and  fecure,  and  inviolable 
Freedom,  repay  God  what  he  hath  given,  when  he 
demands  it  ?  Will  you  not  fludy,  not  only  as  Plato 
fays,  to  die,  but  to  be  tortured,  and  banifhed,  and 
fcourged  ;  and,  in  fhort,  to  give  up  all  that  belongs 
to  others.  If  not,  you  will  be  a  Slave  among 
Slaves,  though  you  were  ten  thoufand  Times  a  Con- 
ful :  and,  even  though  you  fhould  rife  to  the  Pa- 
lace, you  will  be  never  the  lefs  fb.  And  you  will 
feel,  that  though  Philofophers  (as  Cleantbes  fays) 
do,  perhaps,  talk  contrary  to  common  Opinion, 
yet  not  contrary  to  Reafon,  For  you  will  find  it 
true  in  fad,  that  the  Things  that  are  eagerly  fol- 
lowed and  admired,  are  ot  no  Ufe  to  thofe,  who 
have  gained  them :  while  they  who  have  not  yet 
gained  them,  imagine,  that,  if  they  are  acquired, 
every  Good  v/ill  come  along  with  them  :  and  then, 
when  they  are  acquired,  there  is  the  fame  Feverifh- 
nefs,  the  fame  Agitation,  the  fame  Naufeating,  and 
the  fame  Defire  of  what  is  abfent.  For  Freedom  is 
not  procured  by  a  full  Enjoyment  of  what  isdefired, 
but  by  proving  the  Defire  to  be  a  wrong  one.  And,' 
in  order  to  know  that  this  is  true,  take  the  feme 
Pains  about  thefe,  which  you  have  taken  about  o- 
ther  Things.  Lie  awake  to  acquire  a  Set  of  Princi- 
ples, that  will  make  you  free.  Inilead  of  a  rich  old 
Man,  pay  your  Court  to  a  Philofopher.  Be  feen  about 
his  Doors.  You  will  not  get  any  Difgrace  by  being 
feen  there.  You  will  not  return  empty,  or  unprolited, 
if  you  go  as  you  ought.  However,  try  at  leaft.  The 
Trial  is  not  diflionourable,  CHAP- 


Chap.  2.         E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  327 

CHAPTER      II. 

'   Of  Complaifance  {a). 

§.  I.  TpO  this  Point  you  mufl  attend  before  all 
X  others  :  Not  to  be  fo  attached  to  any  one 
of  your  former  Acquaintance  or  Friends,  as  to  con- 
defcend  to  the  fame  Behaviour  with  his ;  otherwife 
you  will  undo  yourfelf  But,  if  it  comes  into  your 
Head,  /  fhall  appear  odd  to  bim^  and  he  will  not  treat 
me  as  before^  remember,  that  there  is  nothing  to 
be  had  for  nothing :  nor  is  it  poflible,  that  he  who 
adts  in  the  fame  manner,  fhould  not  be  the  fame 
Perfon.  Chufe  then,  whether  you  will  be  loved  by 
thofe  you  were  formerly,  and  be  like  your  former 
felf ;  or  be  better,  and  not  meet  with  the  fame 
Treatment.  For,  if  this  is  preferable,  immediate- 
ly incline  altogether  that  way,  and  let  no  other 
Kinds  of  Reafoning  draw  you  afide  :  for  no  one 
can  improve  while  he  is  wavering  {b).  If  then  you 
prefer  this  to  every  thing,  if  you  would  be  fixed 
only  on  this,  and  employ  all  your  Pains  about  it, 
give  up  every  thing  elfe.  Otherwile  this  Waver- 
ing  will  afFedt  you  both  Ways-,  you  will  neither 
make  a  due  Improvement,  nor  preferve  the  Ad- 
vantages you  had  before.  For  before,  by  fetting 
your  Heart  intirely  on  Things  of  no  Value,  you 
were  agreeable  to  your  Companions.  But  you  can- 
not excell  in  both  Kinds :  but  mull:  necelfarily  lofe 
as  much  of  the  one,  as  you  partake  of  the  other. 
If  you  do  not  drink  with  thofe,  with  whom  you 
ufed  to  drink,  you  cannot  appear  equally  agreeable 
to  them.  Chufe  then,  whether  you  would  be  a 
Drunkard,    and  agreeable  to  them,  or  fober,   and 

Y  4  dif- 

(a)  Compare  this  Chapter  with  Matt.  vi.  24.    No  Man  can 
Jsrnje  tivo  Majiers. 
{b)  See  James  i.  8. 


5  2$  fhe  Discourses^/*         Book  IV. 

difagreeable  to  them.  If  you  do  not  fing  with 
thofe,  with  whom  you  ufed  to  fmg,  you  cannot  be 
equally  dear  to  them.  Here  too  then,  chufe  which 
you  will.  For  if  it  is  better  to  be  modefl  and  de- 
cent, than  to  have  it  faid  of  you,  fVhat  an  agreea- 
h'e  Fello"du  !  give  up  the  reft ;  renounce  it ;  with- 
draw yourfelf ;  have  nothing  to  do  with  it.  But, 
if  this  doth  not  pleafe  you,  incline,  with  your  whole 
Force,  the  contrary  Way.  Be  one  of  the  Catamites ; 
one  of  the  Adulterers.  h.t\  all  that  is  confequent 
to  fuch  a  Charader,  and  you  will  obtain  what  you 
would  have.  Jump  up  in  the  Theatre  too,  and 
roar  out  in  praife  of  the  Dancer.  But  Charafters  fo 
different  are  not  to  be  confounded.  You  cannot  aft 
both  Therjites  and  Agamemnon.  If  you  would  be 
*Theyfites^  you  mufl:  be  hump-backed  and  bald  :  If 
j^gamemnoi:^  tall  and  handfome,  and  a  Lover  of 
thofe  who  are  under  your  Care. 

CHAPTER    III. 

What 'Things  are  to  he  excha^iged  for  others. 

§.  I.  \T  7HEN  you  hav^e  lofl:  any  thing  external, 
W  have  this  always  at  hand,  what  you 
have  got  inflead  of  it :  and,  if  that  be  of  more  Va- 
lue, do  not  by  any  means  fay,  "  I  am  a  Lofer  :" 
whether  it  be  a  Horfe  for  an  Afs ;  an  Ox  for  a 
Sheep  ;  a  good  Adion  for  a  Piece  of  Money  ;  a 
due  compofednefs  of  Mind  for  a  dull  Jeft ;  or  Mo- 
defly  for  indecent  Difcourfe.  By  continually  re- 
membring  this,  you  will  preferve  your  Charader 
fuch  as  it  ought  to  be.  Otherwife  confider,  that 
you  are  fpending  your  Time  in  vain  ;  and  all  that 
you  are  now  applying  your  Mind  to,  you  are  going 
to  fpiil  and  overfet.  And  there  needs  but  little, 
and  a  fmall  Deviation  from  Reafon,  to  deflroy 
and  overfet  all.  A  Pilot  doth  not  need  the  fame 
Apparatus  to  overfet  a  Ship,  as  to  fave  it  i   but,  it 

he 


Chap.  3.  E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  329 

he  turns  it  a  little  to  the  Wind,  it  is  lofl  :  even  if 
he  fhoiild  not  do  it  by  Defign,  but  only  for  a  Mo- 
ment be  thinking  of  fomething  elfe,  it  is  loll". 
Such  is  the  Cafe  here  too.  If  you  do  but  nod  a 
litde,  all  that  you  have  hitherto  collected  is  gone. 
Take  heed  then  to  the  Appearances  of  Things. 
Keep  yourfelf  awake  over  them.  It  is  no  inconfi- 
derable  Matter  you  have  to  guard  ;  but  Modefly, 
Fidelity,  Conftancy,  Enjoyment  (^),  Exemption 
from  Grief,  Fear,  Perturbation ;  in  fhort,  Free- 
dom. For  what  will  you  fell  thefe  ?  Confider  what 
the  Purchafe  is  worth.  — "'  But  fhall  I  not  get  fuch 
"  a  Thing  inftead  of  it  .^" — Confider,  if  you  do  get 
it  (/>),  what  it  is  that  you  obtain  for  the  other.  I 
have  Decency  ;  another  the  Office  of  a  Tribune  :  I 
have  Modelly  -,  he  hath  the  Praetorfhip.  But  I  do 
not  make  Acclamations  where  it  is  unbecoming  :  I 
fhall  not  rife  (/)  up  [to  do  Honour  to  another]  in  a 
Cafe  where  1  ought  not :  for  I  am  free,  and  the  Friend 
of  God,  fo  as  to  obey  him  willingly  :  but  I  mud  not 
value  any  thing  elfe  ;  neither  Body,  nor  PolTeffions, 
nor  Fame  -,  in  Ihort,  nothing.  For  it  is  not  His  Will, 
that  I  fhould  value  them.  For,  if  this  had  been 
his  Pleafure,  he  would  have  made  them  miy  Good, 
whicji  now  he  hath  not  done  :  therefore  I  cannot 
tranfgrefs  his  Commands.—"  In  every  thing  prc- 
'•  ferve  your  own  proper  Good." — "  But  what  of 
''  the  reft?" — "  Preferve  ibc^m  too  according  as  it 
"  is  permitted,  and  fo  far  as  to  behave  agreeably 
"  to  Reafon  in  relation  to  them  ;  contented  with 
"  this  alone.  Otherwife  you  will  be  unfortunate, 
''  difappointed,  rellrained,  hindered.''  Thefe  are 
the  Laws,    thefe  the  Statutes,    tranfmitted  from 

thence. 

(a)  See  p.  277.  Note  {e). 

[l?)  1  fiiiped,  that  rvyxa-^ci'  fiiould  be  ov  rt^yx*""^"*  ^^^  ^^^^ 
the  Tranflarlon  will  be, — Confider,  on  the  other  hand,  if  you 
do  not  get  that,  what  you  obtain  inftead  of  it. 

{c)  Probably  Epiihttis  h^re  allud;;s  to  the  jumping  up  in  the 
Theatre,  in  favour  of  fome  Adtor,  mentioned  in  the  preceding 
Chapter,  and  in  the  fourth  Chapter  of  the  third  Book. 


330  ^^^  D  I  s  c  o  u  R  s  E  s  of        Book  IV. 

thence.  Of  thefe  one  ought  to  be  an  Expofitor, 
and  to  thefe  obedient,  not  to  thofe  of  Mafurius  {d) 
and  Ciiffius, 

CHAPTER    IV. 

Concerning  Thofe  who  earnefliy  drftre  a  Life  of  Re- 
pofe, 

^'  '•  T)  E MEMBER,  that  it  is  not  only  the 
Jtv  Defue  ot  Riches  and  Power,  that  ren- 
ders us  mean,  and  fubjed  to  others,  but  even  of 
Quiet,  and  Leifure,  and  Learning,  and  Travelling. 
For,  in  general,  valuing  any  external  Thing  what- 
ever, fubjedts  us  to  another.  Where  is  the  Diffe- 
rence then,  whether  you  defire  to  be  a  Senator,  or 
not  to  be  a  Senator  }  Where  is  the  Difference  whe- 
ther you  defire  Power,  or  to  be  out  of  Power  > 
Where  is  the  Difference,  whether  you  fay,  "  I  am 
*'  in  a  wretched  Way,  I  have  nothing  to  do ;  but 
''  am  tied  down  to  Books,  as  inadive  as  if  I  were 
*-'  dead  ;" — —or,  "  I  am  in  a  wretched  Way,  I 
''  have  no  Leifure  to  read  ?"  For  as  Levees  and 
Power  are  among  Things  external,  and  indepen- 
dent on  Choice,  fo  likewife  is  a  Book.  For  what 
purpofe  would  you  read  ?  Tell  me.  For  if  you 
reft  merely  in  being  am.uied,  and  learning  fome- 
thing,  you  are  infignificant  and  miferable.  But  if 
you  refer  it  to  what  you  ought,  what  is  that  but  a 
profperous  Life  ^  And  if  Reading  doth  not  procure 
you  a  profperous  Life,  of  what  Ufe  is  it .?  "  But 
*'  it  doth  procure  a  profperous  Life  (fay  you)  ; 
*^  and  therefore  1  am  iineaiy  at  being  deprived  of 

u  \^^\ ^n<i  what  fort  of  Profperity   is   that, 

which 

(d)  Two  famous  Lawyers.  This  PafTage  is  an  Inftance  of  the 
manner  of  Speaking,  lefs  ufual  among  ih^iGreek  and  Roman,  than 
the  Eaftern  Writers;  where  enjoining  one  Thing,  and  forbid- 
ding  another,  means  onlv  that  the  firil  Ihould  be  preterred  in 
cale  of  Con)petition. 


Chap,  4.  E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  331 

which  every  thing,  I  do  not  fay  C<efar^  or  the 
Friend  of  Cafar^  but  a  Crow,  a  Piper,  a  Fever,  ten 
thoufand  other  Things,  can  hinder  ?  But  nothing 
is  fo  elTential  to  Profperity,  as  the  being  perpetual, 
and  unhindered.  I  am  now  called  to  do  fomethino-. 
I  now  go  therefore,  and  will  be  attentive  to  the 
Bounds  and  Meafures,  which  ought  to  be  obferved ; 
that  I  may  ad  modeflly,  fteadily,  and  without  De- 
fire  or  Averfion  with  regard  to  Externals  {a).  In 
the  next  place,  I  am  attentive  to  other  Men  ; 
what  they  fay,  and  how  they  are  moved :  and  that, 
not  from  Ill-nature,  nor  that  I  may  have  an  Op- 
portunity for  Cenfure  or  Ridicule  :  but  I  turn  to 
myfelf,  [and  afk,]  '*  Am  I  alfo  guiltv  of  the  fame 
"  Faults ;  and  how  then  (hall  I  leave'  them  off?" 
(Jb)  Once  I  too  was  faulty  ;  but,  God  be  thanked, 
not  now.  Well :  when  you  have  done  thus,  and 
been  employed  in  this  manner,  have  not  you  done 
as  good  a  Work,  as  if  you  had  read  a  thoufand 
Lines,  or  written  as  many  .?  For  are  you  uneafy  at 
not  reading  while  you  are  eating,  or  bathing,  or 
exercifmg  P  Are  not  you  fatisfied  with  performing 
thefe  Actions  conformably  to  what  you  have  read.^ 
Why  then  do  you  not  think  uniformly  about  every 

thing  P 

{a)  The  Readers,  perhaps,  may  grow  tired,  with  being  fo 
oftL^n  told,  what  they  wilJ  find  it  very  difficult  to  believe.  That, 
becaule  Externals  are  not  in  our  own  Power,  they  are  nothing 
to  us.  But,  in  Excufe  for  this  frequent  Repetition,  it  mulT:  be 
confidered,  that  the  Stoics  had  reduced  themfelves  to  a  Neceflity 
of  dwelling  on  this  Confequence,  extravagant  as  it  is,  by  re 
jeaing  ftronger  Aids.  One  cannot  indeed  avoid  highly  admi- 
ring the  very  Few,  who  attempted  to  amend  and  exalt  thenj- 
felves,  on  this  Foundation.  No  one,  perhaps,  ever  carried  the 
Attempt  fo  far  in  Practice  ;  and  no  one  ever  fpoke  fo  well  in 
fupport  of  the  Argument,  as  Epaetus.  Yet,  notwithftanding 
his  great  Abilities,  and  the  Force  of  his  Example,  one  finds  him 
ftrongly  complaining  of  the  want  of  Succefs  :  and  one  fees  from 
this  Circumftance,  as  well  as  from  many  others  in  the  Stoic  Wri* 
tings.  That  Virtue  cannot  be  maintained  in  the  World,  without 
ihe  Hope  of  a  future  Reward. 

[h]  TcT^,  perhaps  Ihould  be  ^(mi-,  and  is  fo  tranflated. 


'^"^. 


g^2  The  Discourses  of        Book  IV. 

thing  ?  When  you  approach  Cafar^  or  any  other 
Ferlbn,  if  you  preferve  yourfelf  unpailionate,  una- 
larmed,  fedate  ;  if  you  are  rather  an  Obferver  of 
what  is  done,  than  [yourfelf]  obferved ;  if  you  do 
not  envy  thofe  who  are  preferred  to  you  \  if  the 
Materials  of  Action  do  not  flrike  you  ;  what  do  you 
want  ?  Books  ?  How,  or  to  what  End  ?  For  is  not 
this  a  kind  of  Preparation  for  Living,  but  Living 
irfelf,  made  up  of  Things  different  ?  Jufl  as  if  a 
Champion,  when  he  enters  the  Lifts.,  fhould  fall  a 
crying,  becaufe  he  is  not  exercifing  without.  It 
was  for  this,  that  you  ufed  to  be  exercifed.  For 
this,  Vv'ere  the  Poifers,  the  Duft  (r),  the  young  P'cl- 
lows,  your  Antagonifts,  And  do  you  now  feek  for 
thefe,  when  it  is  the  time  for  Bufmefs?  This  is 
juft  as  if,  in  the  Topic  of  AfTent,  when  we  are  pre- 
fenteci  with  Appearances,  of  which  fome  are  evi- 
dently true,  others  not,  inftead  of  diftinguiihing 
them,  we  fhould  want  to  read  DiiTertations  on  Evi- 
dence. 

§.  2.  What  then  is  the  Caufe  of  this  ?  That  we 
have  neither  read  nor  written,  in  order  to  treat  the 
Appearances  that  occur  to  us,  conformably  to  Na- 
ture, in  our  Behaviour.  But  we  flop  at  learning 
what  is  faid,  and  bejng  able  to  explain  it  to  others ; 
at  folving  Syllogifms,  and  ranging  hypothetical  Ar- 
guments. Hence,  where  the  Study  is,  there  too 
is  the  Hindrance.  Do  you  defire  abfolutely  what' 
is  out  of  your  Power  ?  Be  reftrained  then,  be  hin- 
dered, be  difappointed.  But  if  we  read  Differtati- 
ons  about  the  exertion  of  the  Efforts,  not  merely 
to  fee  what  is  faid  about  the  Efforts,  but  to  exert 
them  well :  on  Defire  and  Averfion,  that  we  may 
not  be  difappointed  of  our  Defires,    nor  incur  our 

Averfions ; 

(c)  The  Olympic  Champions  ufed  to  rub  themfelves  with  Duft 
^jid  Sand  :  which,  as  they  were  anointed,  was  necellary  to  give 
them  the  better  Hold  on  each  other.  See  Mr.  Vponi  Note  on. 
L.  Hi.  c.  15.  p.  419.  1.  10. 


tm^i^- 


Chap.4'         E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  333 

Averfions  :  on  the  Duties  of  Life,  that,  mindful  of 
our  Relations,  we  may  do  nothing  irrationally,  nor 
contrary  to  them  :  we  (hould  not  be  provoked  at 
being  hindered  in  our  Reading;  but  (hould  be  con- 
tented  with  the  Performance  of  Adions  fuitabie  to 
us,  and  fliould  not  compute  as  we  have  hitherto 
been  accuftomed  to  compute.  ''  To-day  I  have 
''  read  fo  many  Lines;  I  have  written  fo  many;'* 
but,  ^'  To-day  I  have  ufed  my  Efforts  as  the  Phi- 
**  lofophers  direct.  I  have  reflrained  my  Defires 
*'  abfolutely  ;  I  have  applied  my  Averfion  only  to 
"  Things  dependent  on  Choice.  I  have  not  been 
"  terrified  by  fuch  a  one,  nor  put  out  of  Counte* 
"  nance  by  fuch  another.  I  have  exercifed  my 
"  Patience,  my  Abftinence;  my  Beneficence. " 
And  thus  we  fiiould  thank  God  for  what  we  ought 
to  thank  him.  But  now  we  refemble  the  Vulgar 
in  another  way  aifo,  and  do  not  know  it.  One  is 
afraid,  that  he  fliall  not  be  in  Power  ;  you  (<^},  that 
you  Ihall.  By  no  means  be  afraid  of  it,  Man  ;  but 
as  you  laugh  at  bim,  laugh  at  yourfelf.  For  there 
is  no  Difference,  whether  you  thirft,  like  one  in  a 
Fever,  or  dread  Water,  like  him  who  is  bit  by  a 
mad  Dog.  Elfe,  how  can  you  fay,  like  Socrates^ 
"  If  it  fo  pleafes  God,  fo  let  it  be  ?"  Do  you  think 
that  Socrates^  if  he  had  fixed  his  Defires  on  the 
Leifure  of  the  Lyceum^  or  the  Academy,  or  the 
Converfation  of  the  Youth  there.  Day  after  Day, 
would  have  made  fo  many  Campaigns  as  he  did  fo 
readily  }  Would  not  he  have  lamented  and  groan- 
ed ;  *'  How  wretched  am  I !  now  muil  I  be  mi(e- 
*'  rable  here,  when  I  might  be  funning  myfelf  in 
"  xho.  Lyceum?''  Was  that  your  Bufinefs  in  Life 
then,  to  fun  yourfelf?  Was  it  not  to  be  profper- 
ous  }  To  be  unreflrained  ?  Unhindered  ?  And  how 
could  he  have  been  Socrates y    if  he  had  lamented 

thus  ? 

{<f)  The  Tranflatlon  follows  the  Conje<5lure  of  Wolfus. 


SS4-  ^^^  Discourses  of        Book  IV. 

thus  ?  How  could  he,  after  that,  have  written  Pae- 
ans in  a  Prifbn  ? 

§.  3.  In  ihort  then,  remember  this,  that  what- 
ever external  to  your  own  Choice  you  efteem,  you 
deflroy  that  Choice.  And  not  only  Power  is  exter- 
nal to  it,  but  the  being  out  of  Power  too :  not  only 

Bufmefs,  but  Leifure  too.! "  Then,  mufh  I  live 

"in  this  Tumult  now.?" What  do  you  call  a 

Tumult  ^. "  A  Multitude  of  People/' And 

where  is  the  Hardlhip }    Suppofe  it  is  the  Olympic 
Games.     Think  it  a  public  Allembiy.     There  too 
fome  bawl  out  one  Thing,  fbme  do  another";  forne 
pufh  the  reft.     The  Baths  are  crowded.     Yet  whb 
of  us  is  not  pleafed  with  thefe  iVfTemblies,  and  doth 
not  grieve  to  leave  them  ?  Do  not  be  hard  to  pleafe, 
and  fqueamifh  at  what  happens.     "  Vinegar  is  dif- 
"  agreeable,  [fays  one]  ;  for  it  is  four.     Honey  is 
"  difagreeable,  fays  a  fecond  ;    for  it  diforders  my 
^'  Conditution.     1  do  not  like  Vegetables,   fays  a 
*'  third.     Thus  too  [fay  others']  I  do  not  like  Re- 
*'  tirement ;  it  is  a  Defart :  I  do  not  like  a  Crowd  ; 
*'  it  is  a  Tumult." — Why,  if  Things  are  fo  difpo- 
fed,    that  you  are  to  live  alone,    or  with  few,    call 
this  Condition  a  Repofe  ;  and  make  ufe  of  it  as  you 
ought.     Talk  with  yourfelf:    exercife  the  Appear- 
ances prefented  to  your  Mind  :    work  up  your  Pre- 
conceptions to  Accuracy.     But  if  you  light  on  a 
Crowd,  call  it  one  of  the  public  Games,    a  grand 
Aflembly,    a  Feflival.     Endeavour  to  fhare  in  the 
Feflival  with  the  reft  of  the  World.     For  what  Sight 
is  more  pleafant  to  a  lover  of  Mankind,    than  a 
great  Number  of  Men  }    We  fee  Companies  of 
Oxen,    or  Horfes,    with  Pleafure.     We  are  highly 
delighted  to  fee  a  great  many  Ships.     Who  is  for- 
ry  to  fee  a  great  many  Men  •* — "  But  they  ftun  me 
"  with  their  Noife." — Then  your  Hearing  is  hin- 
dered;   and  what  is  that  to  you?    Is  your  Faculty 
of  making  a  right  Ufe  of  the  Appearances  of  Things 
hindered  too  ?  Or  who  can  reftrain  you  from  ufing 

your 


Chap.  4*         E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  ^7,s 

your  Defire  and  Averfion,  your  Powers  of  Purfuit 
and  Avoidance,  conformable  to  Nature  ?  W  hat 
Tumult  is  fufficient  for  this  ?  Do  but  remember  the 
general  Rules,  What  is  mine  P  JVhat  not  min  ? 
What  is  allotted  me?  What  is  the  Will  of  God,  that 
Ijhould  do  now  ?  What  is  not  his  Will  ?  A  little  while 
ago  it  was  His  Will,  that  you  (hould  be  at  leifure, 
fhould  talk  with  yourfelf,  write  about  thefe  Things, ' 
read,  hear,  prepare  yourfelf  You  have  had  futfi- 
cient  Time  for  this.  At  prefent  He  fays  to  you, 
"  Come  now  to  the  Combat.  Show  us  what  you 
"  have  learned;  how  you  have  wreflled."  How 
long  would  you  exercife  by  yourfelf?  it  is  now  the 
Time  to  fhow,  whether  you  are  of  the  Number  of 
thofe  Champions  who  merit  Vidory,  or  of  thofe 
who  go  about  the  World,  conquered  in  all  the 
Games  round.  Why  then  are  you  out  of  Humour  ? 
There  is  no  Combat  without  a  Tumult.  There 
muft  be  many  preparatory  Exercifes,  many  Accla- 
mations, many  Mafters,  many  Spedators.- — ''  But 
"  1  would  live  in  quiet." — Why  then,  lament  and 
groan,  as  you  defer ve.  For  what  greater  Punifh- 
ment  is  there  to  the  Uninflruded,  and  Dilbbedient 
to  the  Orders  of  God,  than  to  grieve,  to  mourn, 
to  envy ;  in  fhort,  to  be  difappointed,  and  unhap- 
py ?  Are  not  you  willing  to  deliver  yourfelf  from 
all  this? — And  how  fhall  I  deliver  myfelf  ? — Have 
not  you  heard,  that  you  muft  abfblutely  with-hold 
Defire,  and  apply  Averfion  to  fuch  Things  only, 
as  are  dependent  on  Choice  ?  That  you  muft  give 
up  all.  Body,  Pofleflions,  Fame,  Books,  Tumults, 
Power,  Exemption  from  Power  ?  For  to  which  fb- 
ever  your  Propenfion  is,  you  are  a  Slave  ;  you  are 
under  Subjedion  ;  you  are  made  liable  to  Re- 
ftraint,  to  Compulfion  ;  you  are  altogether  the  Pro- 
perty of  others.  But  have  that  of  Cleanthes  always 
ready, 

Condti^  mcy  Jove ;  and  Thou^  O  Deftiny. 

Is 


3^6  ne  Discourses  of      Book  IV- 

Is  it  Your  Will,  that  I  fhould  go  to  Rome  ?  Con- 
dudl  me  to  Rome.  To  Gyaros  ? — To  Gyaros.  To 
j^tbens .?— To  Athens.  To  Prifon  ?— To  Prifon.  If 
you  once  fay,  ''  When  is  one  to  go  to  Athens  .^'* 
you  are  undone.  This  Defire,  if  it  be  unaccom- 
phThed,  muft  neceffarily  render  you  difappointed  ; 
and,  if  fulfilled,  vain  on  what  ought  to  elate  you  : 
on  the  contrary,  if  you  are,  hindered,  wretched,  by 
incurring  what  you  do  not  like.  Therefore  give 
up  all  tliefe  Things. — ''  Athens  is  a  fine  Place." 
— But  it  is  a  much  finer  Thing  to  be  happy,  im- 
paffive,  tranquil,  not  to  have  what  concerns  you' 
dependent  on  others. — "  Rome  is  full  of  Tumults 
*'  and  Vifits." — But  Profperity  is  worth  all  Diffi- 
culties. If  then  it  be  a  proper  Time  for  thefe,  why 
do  not  you  withdraw  your  Averfion  from  them  .^ 
(What  Necellity  is  there  for  you  to  be  made  to  car- 
ry your  Burden,  by  being  cudgelled  like  an  Afs  ^) 
Otherwife  confider,  that  you  muit  always  be  a 
Slave  to  him,  who  hath  the  Power  to  procure  your 
Difcharge,  to  every  one  who  hath  the  Power  of 
hindering  you  ;  and  mud  worfhip  him,  like  your 
evil  Genius. 

§.  4.  The  only  way  to  real  Profperity  (let  this 
Rule  be  at  hand  Morning,  Noon,  and  Night,)  is, 
a  Refignation  of  Things  independent  on  Choice  ; 
to  efleem  nothing  as  a  Property  ;  to  deliver  up  all 
Things  to  our  tutelar  Genius,  and  to  Fortune  -,  to 
make  thofe  the  Governors  of  them,  whom  Jupiter 
hath  made  h\  to  be  ourfelves  devoted  to  that  only, 
which  is  our  Property  ;  to  that  which  is  incapable 
of  Reftraint ;  and  whatever  we  read,  or  write,  or 
hear,  to  refer  all  to  this. 

§.  5.  Therefore  I  cannot  call  any  one  induflri- 
ous,  if  I  hear  only  that  he  reads,  or  writes  *,  nor 
even  if  he  adds  the  whole  Night  to  the  Day,  do  I 
call  him  fb,  unlefs  I  know  to  what  he  refers  it.  For 
not  even  you  would  call  Him  induftrious,  who  fits 
up  for  the  Sake  of  a  Girl  j    nor  therefore  in  the 

other 


Chap.4.         E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  33^ 

other  Cafe  do  1.  But,  if  he  doth  it  for  Fame,  I 
call  him  ambitious  ;  if  for  Money,  avaritious  ;  if 
from  the  Defire  of  Learning,  bookiih  ;  but  not  in-^ 
duflrious.  But,  if  he  refers  his  Labour  to  his  ru- 
ling Faculty,  in  order  to  treat  and  regulate  it  con- 
formably to  Nature,  then  only  I  call  him  induftri- 
ous.  For  never  either  praife  or  blame  any  Perfon, 
on  account  of  outward  Adlions  that  are  common  to 
all ;  but  on  the  account  of  Principles.  Thefe  are 
the  peculiar  Property  of  each  Individual,  and  the 
Things  which  make  Adions  good  or  bad. 

§.  6.  Mindful  of  this,  be  pleafed  with  the  pre- 
fent,  and  contented  with  whatever  it  is  the  Seafon 
for.  If  you  perceive  any  of  thofe  Things,  which 
you  have  learned  and  ftudied,  occurring  to  you  in 
Adlion,  rejoice  in  them.  If  you  have  laid  afide  Ill- 
nature  and  Reviling  ;  if  you  have  lefTened  your 
Harfhnefs,  indecent  Language,  Inconfideratenefs, 
Effeminacy ;  if  you  are  not  moved  by  the  fame 
Things  as  formerly  \  if  not  in  the  fame  manner  as 
formerly  ;  you  may  keep  a  perpetual  Feilival :  To- 
day, becaufe  you  have  behaved  well  in  one  Affair  : 
To-morrow,  becaufe  in  another.  How  much  bet- 
ter a  Reafon  for  Sacrifice  is  this,  than  obtaining  a 
Confulfhip,  or  a  Government }  Thefe  Things  you 
have  from  yourfelf,  and  from  the  Gods.  Remem- 
ber this.  Who  it  is  that  gave  them,  and  to  whom, 
and  for  what  Purpofe.  Habituated  once  to  thefe 
Reafonings,  can  you  ftill  think  there  is  any  Diffe- 
rence, in  what  Place  you  are  to  pleafe  God  ^  Are 
not  the  Gods  every-where  at  the  fame  Di- 
fiance  }  Do  not  they  every-where  equally  fee  what 
is  doing  ? 


CHAP- 


338  'The  Discourses  of        Book  IV. 

CHAPTER     V. 

Concerning  the  §luarrelfome^  and  Ferocious. 

§.  I.  A  WISE  and  good  Perfon  neither  quar- 
JljL  rels  with  any  one  himfelf,  nor,  as  far  as 
pofTible,  fufFers  another.  The  Life  of  SocraUs  af- 
fords us  an  Example  of  this  too,  as  well  as  of  the 
other  [Virtues]  i  who  not  only  every-where  avoid- 
ed quarrelling  himfelf,  but  did  not  even  fuffer  others 
to  quarrel.  See  in  Xenophon's  Sympojium^  how  ma- 
ny Quarrels  he  ended ;  how,  again,  he  bore  with 
^hrafymachus.,  with  Pclus^  with  Collides  •,  how,  with 
his  Wife  ,  how,  with  his  Son,  who  attempted  to 
confute  him,  and  cavilled  with  him.  For  he  well 
remembered,  that  no  one  is  Mafter  of  the  ruling 
Faculty  of-  another  ;  and  therefore  he  defired  no- 
thing but  v^hat  was   his  own. *'  And  what  is 

"  that?" Not  that  this  [or  that]  Perfon  {a) 

fhould  be  moved  conformably  to  Nature ;  for  that 
belongs  to  others  •,  but  that  while  they  a6l  in  their 
own  Way,  as  they  pleafe,  he  fhould  neverthelefs 
be  affeded,  and  live  conformably  to  Nature,  only 
doing  what  belongs  to  himfelf,  in  order  to  make 
them  too  live  conformably  to  Nature.  For  this  is 
the  Point,  that  a  wife  and  good  Perfon  hath  in  view. 
To  have  the  Command  of  an  Army  ?  No  :  but  if 
it  be  allotted  him,  to  preferve  on  this  Subjedl  of 
Adion,  the  right  Condud  of  his  own  ruling  Fa- 
culty. To  marry  .?  No  :  but  if  a  Marriage  be  al- 
lotted him,  to  preferve  himfelf,  on  this  Subjed  of 
Adion,  conformable  to  Nature.  But,  if  he  would 
have  his  Wife,  or  his  Child,  exempt  from  Fault, 
he  would  have  that  his  own,  which  belongs  to 
others.     And  being  inftrudted,  confifls  in  this  very 

Point, 

{a)  Perhaps  for  x»»w  oyT<^  rt,    fhould  be  read,    xirjjraj  ofT©- ; 
and  the  Tranflation  follows  this  Conjefture. 


Chap.  5.         EPICTETUS.  S29 

Point,    To  learn  what  Things  are  our  own,   and 
what  belong  to  others. 

§.  2.  What  room  is  there  then  for  quarrelling, 
to  a  Perfon  thus  difpofed  ?  For  doth  he  wonder  at 
any  thing  that  happens  ?  Doth  it  appear  new  to 
him  ?  Doth  not  he  expedt  worfe  and  more  grievous 
Injuries  from  bad  People,  than  happen  to  him  ? 
Doth  he  not  reckon  it  fo  much  gained,  as  they 
come  fhort  of  the  lafl  Extremities  ?  Such  a  one 
hath  reviled  you. — You  are  much  obliged  to  him, 
that  he  hath  not  flruck  you. — But  he  hath  flruck 
you  too. — You  are  much  obliged  to  him,  that  he 
hath  not  wounded  you  too. — But  he  hath  wounded 
you  too. — You  are  much  obliged  to  him,  that  he 
hath  not  killed  you.  For  when  did  he  ever  learn, 
or  from  whom,  that  he  is  a  gentle,  that  he  is  a  fb- 
cial  Animal :  that  the  very  hijury  itfelf  is  a  great 
Mifchief  to  the  Injurious  ?  As  then  he  hath  not 
learned  thefe  Things,  nor  believes  them,  why  fhould 
he  not  follow  what  appears  for  his  Interefl  ?  Your 
Neighbour  hath  thrown  Stones.  What  then  ?  Is 
it  any  Fault  of  yours  ?  But  your  Goods  are  broken. 
What  then  ^  Are  you  a  Piece  of  Furniture  .?  No  ; 
but  your  ElTence  confifls  in  the  Faculty  of  Choice, 
What  Behaviour  then  is  aOigned  you,  in  Return  ? 
If  you  confider  yourfelf  as  a  Wolf — to  bite  again, 
to  throw  more  Stones.  But  if  you  afk  the  Quefli- 
on,  as  a  Man,  examine  your  Treafure  :  fee  what 
Faculties  you  have  brought  into  the  World  with 
you.  Are  they  Difpofitions  to  Ferocity  .?  To  Re- 
venge ^  When  is  a  Horfe  raiferable  .?  When  he  is 
deprived  of  his  natural  Faculties.  Not  when  he 
cannot  crow,  but  when  he  cannot  run.  And  a 
a  Dog  ^  not  when  he  cannot  fly,  but  when  he  can- 
not hunt.  Is  not  a  Man  then  alfo  unhappy  in  the 
fame  manner  ^  Not  he,  who  cannot  ilrangle  Lions, 
or  grafp  Statues  •^Z'),  (for  he  hath  received  no  Fa- 

Z  2  culties 

{b)  Like  Hercules  and  Diogenes,  See  p.  228.  Note  [h). 


240  The  Discourses  <?/         Book IV. 

culties  for  this  purpofe  from  Nature  ;)  but  who  hath 
loft  his  Reditude  of  Mind,  his  Fidelity.  Such  a 
one  is  the  Perfon,  who  ought  to  be  publicly  lament- 
ed, for  the  Misfortunes  into  which  he  is  fallen :  not, 
by  Heaven,  either  he  who  is  born  {c)  or  dies  ;  but 
he,  whom  it  hath  befallen  v/hile  he  Hves  to  lofe 
what  is  properly  his  own  :  not  his  paternal  Poft'ef- 
fions,  his  paultry  Eflate,  or  his  Houfe,  his  Lodg- 
ing, or  his  Slaves,  (for  none  of  thefe  are  a  Man's 
own ;  but  all  belonging  to  others^  fervile,  depen- 
dent, and  given  at  different  Times,  to  different 
Perfons,  by  the  Difpofers  of  them  0  but  his  perfo- 
nal  Qualifications  as  a  Man,  the  ImpreiTions  which 
he  brought  into  the  World  ftampt  upon  his  Mind : 
fuch  as  we  feek  in  Money  ;  and,  if  we  find  them, 
allow  it  to  be  good  ;  if  not,  throw  it  away.  "  What 
"  Impreflion  hath  this  Piece  of  Money  V — "  Tra- 
\'  jan'sr  "  Give  it  me."— Mr^'s  (d)r  Throw 
it  away.  It  is  falfe  :  it  is  good  for  nothing.  So  in 
the  other  Cafe.  "  What  ImprefTion  have  his  Prin- 
^'  ciples?"  "  Gentlenefs,  focial  Affedlion,  Patience, 
*'  Good-nature."  Bring  them  hither.  I  receive 
them.  I  make  fuch  a  Man  a  Citizen ;  I  receive 
him  for  a  Neighbour,  a  fellow  Traveller.  Only 
fee  that  he  hath  not  the  Neronian  Impreflion.  Is 
he  paflionate  .?  Is  he  refentful .?  Is  he  querulous  ^ 
Would  he,  if  he  took  the  Fancy,  break  the  Head 
of  thofe  who  fall  in  his  way  }    Why  tj^^n  do  you 

call 


[cS  An  Allufion  to  a  PafTage  In  Euripides.  The  general  Senfe 
cf  which  is,  That  we  ought  to  lament  the  Perfon  who  is  born, 
from  a  Confideration  of  the  Evils  into  which  he  is  coming,  and 
to  rejoice  over  the  Dead,  who  is  at  reft  from  his  Labours. 
Upton. 

There  is  an  Account  in  Herodotus,  of  a  People  of  ^hracit 
who  ufed  to  alTemble,  and  condole  with  a  Family  where  any 
one  was  born  ;  and,  on  the  contrary,  exprefs  great  Joy  and 
Congratulation  where-ever  there  happened  a  Death.  L.  5. 
c.  4. 

(d)  Nero  being  declared  an  Enemy  by  the  Senate,  his  Coia 
was,  in  confequence  of  this,  prohibited  and  dellroyed. 


Chap.  5.         E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  341 

call  him  a  Man  ?  For  is  every  thing  dirtinguiflied 
by  a  mere  outward  Form  ?  Then  fay,  juft  as  well, 
that  a  Piece  of  Wax  is  an  Apple,  or  that  it  hath 
the  Smell  and  Tafle  too.  But  the  external  Figure 
is  not  enough  :  nor,  confequently,  is  it  lufficient 
to  make  a  Man,  that  he  hath  a  Nofe  and  Eyes,  if 
he  hath  not  the  proper  Principles  of  a  Man.  Such 
a  one  doth  not  underftand  Reafon,  or  apprehend 
when  he  is  confuted.  He  is  an  Afs.  Another  is 
dead  to  the  Senfe  of  Shame.  He  is  a  vvorthlefs 
Creature  (e)  ;  any  thing,  rather  than  a  Man.  An- 
other feeks  whom  he  may  kick  or  bite  :  fo  that  he 
is  neither  Sheep  nor  Afs.  But  what  then  ?  He  is  a 
wild  Beaft, 

§.  3.  ''  Well :  but  would  you  have  me  defpifed 
*'  then  P" — By  whom  ^  By  thofe  who  know  you  ? 
And  how  can  They  defpife  you,  who  know  you  to 
be  gentle  and  modefl  ^  But,  perhaps,  by  thofe  who 
do  not  know  you  ?  And  what  is  that  ta'You  ?  For 
no  other  Artifi  troubles  himfelf  about  the  Ignorant. 
— — ''  But  People  will  be  much  the  readier  to  at- 

"  tack  me." Why  do  you  fay  me  P    Can  any 

one  hurt  your  Choice,  or  reftrain  you  from  treating 
conformably  to  Nature,  the  Appearances  that  are 
prefented  to  you.^  Why  then  are  you  difturbed, 
and  defirous  to  make  yourfelf  appear  formidable  ? 
Why  do  not  you  make  public  Proclamation,  that 
you  are  at  Peace  with  all  Mankind,  however  they 
may  a^ft ;  and  that  you  chiefly  laugh  at  thofe,  who 
fuppofe  they  can  hurt  you.  •''  Thefe  Wretches  nei- 
"  ther  know  who  I  am,  or  in  v/hat  confift  my 
"  Good  and  Evil :  or  that  there  is  no  Accefs  for 
*^  them  to  what  is  really  mine.''  Thus  the  Inhabi- 
tants of  a  fortified  City  laugh  at  the  Befiegers. 
"  What  Trouble  now  are  thefe  People  giving 
"  themfelves  for  nothing  ^  Our  Wall  is  fecure ;  we 
Z  3  "  have 

{e\  The  Name  of  fome  Animal  would  fuit  better  here,  than 
the  Epithet  a^fr^-  ^"^  xo»f^>  a  Hog,  is  a  Word  too  unlike  > 
and  I  can  think  of  no  beu^r. 


342  ^he  Discourses  of        Book  IV. 

*'  have  Provifions  for  a  very  long  Time,  and  eve- 
**  ry  other  Preparation."  The(e  are  what  render  a 
City  fortified,  and  impregnable  :  but  nothing  but 
its  Principles  render  the  human  Soul  fo.  For  what 
Wall  is  fo  Ilrong,  what  Body  fo  impenetrable,  or 
what  PofTeffion  fo  unalienable,  or  what  Dignity  fo 
fecured  againfl  Stratagems  ?  All  Things  elfe,  every- 
where elfe,  are  mortal,  eafily  reduced  i  and  who- 
ever, in  any  degree,  fixes  his  Mind  upon  them, 
muft  neceflarily  be  fubjedl  to  Perturbation,  Defpair, 
Terrors,  Lamentations,  difappointed  Defires,  and 
incurred  Averfions. 

§.  4.  And  will  we  not  fortify  then  the  only  Place 
of  Security  that  is  granted  us  ;  and,  withdrawing 
ourfelves  from  what  is  mortal  and  fervile,  diligently 
improve  what  is  immortal,  and  by  Nature  free  ^  Do 
we  not  remember,  that  no  one  either  hurts  or  be- 
nefits another  :  but  the  Principle,  which  we  hold 
concerning  every  thing,  doth  it  ?  It  is  this  that 
hurts  us ;  this  that  overturns  us.  Here  is  the  Fight, 
the  Sedition,  the  War.  It  was  nothing  elfe,  that 
made  Eteocles  and  Polynices  Enemies,  but  their 
Principle  concerning  Empire,  and  their  Principle 
concerning  Exile :  that  the  one  feemed  the  extremefl 
Evil ;  the  other,  the  greatefl  Good.  Now  the  very 
Nature  of  every  one  is  to  purfue  Good,  to  avoid 
Evil ;  to  elleem  him  as  an  Enemy  and  Betrayer, 
who  deprives  us  of  the  one,  and  involves  us  in  the 
other,  though  he  be  a  Brother,  or  a  Son,  or  Fa- 
ther. For  nothing  is  more  nearly  related  to  us  than 
Good  So  that  if  Good  and  Evil  confill  in  Exter- 
nals, there  is  no  Affedlion  between  Father  and  Son, 
Brother  and  Brother ;  but  all  is  every-where  full 
of  Enemies,  Betrayers,  Sycophants.  But  if  a  right 
Choice  be  the  only  Good,  and  a  wrong  one  the  only 
Evil,  what  further  room  is  there  for  quarrelling, 
for  reviling.?  About  what.?  About  what  is  nothing 
to  us  .?  Againfl  whom  ?  Againft  the  Ignorant,  againft 

the 


Chap.  5.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  343 

the  Unhappy,  againft  thofe  who  are  deceived  in 
Things  of  the  greatefl  Importance  ? 

§.  5.  Mindful  of  this,  Socrates  lived  in  his  own 
Houfe,  patiently  bearing  a  furious  Wife,  a  fenfelefs 
Son.  For  what  were  the  EfFeds  of  her  Fury  ?  The 
throwing  as  much  Water  as  fhe  pleafed  on  his 
Head,  the  trampling  (f)  a  Cake  under  her  Feet. 
"  And  what  is  this  to  me,  if  I  think  fuch  Things 
*'  nothing  to  me  ?  This  very  Point  is  my  Bufinefs : 
*'  and  neither  a  Tyrant,  nor  ai^vlafler,  ftiali  reftrain 
"  my  Will  -,  nor  Multitudes,  though  I  am  a  fmgle 
"  Perfon  -,  nor  one  ever  fo  ftrong,  though  I  am 
''  ever  fo  weak.  For  this  is  given  by  God  to  every 
*"  one,  free  from  Reftraint.'* 

§.  6.  Thefe  Principles  make  Friendfhip  in  Fa- 
milies, Concord  in  Cities,  Peace  in  Nations.  They 
make  a  Perfon  grateful  to  God,  every-where  in 
good  Spirits,  [about  Externals,!  as  belonging  to 
others,  as  of  no  Value.  But  we,  alas !  are  able 
indeed  to  write  and  read  thefe  Things,  and  to  praife 
them  when  they  are  read ;  but  very  far  from  being 
convinced  by  them.  Therefore  what  is  faid  of  the 
Lacedemonians^ 

Lions  at  Home^  Foxes  at  EpheHis, 

may  be  applied  to  us  too  :  Lions  in  the  School,  but 
Foxes  out  of  it. 


Z4  CHAP^ 


(f)  Alciliades  fent  a  fine  great  Cake,  as  a  Prefent  to  Socrates ; 
which  fo  provoked  the  Jealoufy  of  the  meek  Xaniippej  that  fhe 
threw  it  down,  and  ftampt  upon  it,  Socrates  only  laughed,  and 
faid,  '*  Now  you  will  have  no  Share  in  it  yourfelf."  Uptoji 
from  ^LiANi 


344  ^^^  Discou  RsES(?/        Book  IV. 

C  H  A  P  T  E  R     VI. 

Concerning  nofe  who  grieve,  at  being  pitied. 

§.  I.  TT  vexes  me,  fay  you,  to  be  pitied.     Is  this 

A  your  Affair  then,  or  theirs^  who  pity  you  ? 

And  further :    How  is  it  in  your  Power  to  prevent 

it  ? "  It  is,  if  I  (how  them,  that  J  do  not  need 

*'  Pity."- — -But  are  you  now  in  fuch  a  Condition, 
as  not  to  need  Pity,  or  are  you  not .? — -^^'  I  think 
*'  I  am.  But  thefe  People  do  not  pity  me  for  what, 
.*'  if  any  thing,  would  deferve  Pity,  my  Faults; 
*'  but  for  Povertv,  and  want  of  Pov/er,  and  Sick- 
"  neffes,  and  Deaths,    and  oriier  Things  of  that 

"  Kind." Are  you  then  prepared  to-  convince 

the  World,    that  none  of  thefe  Things  ts  in  reality 
an  Evil :    but  that  it  is  pollibie  for  a  Perfon  to  be 
happy,  even  when  he  ispoor,  aiTd  without  Honours, 
and  Power  ?    Or  are  you  prepared   to   appear  to 
them,  rich  and  powerful  ?  I'he  lad  of  thefe  is  the 
Part  of  an  arrogant,  filly,  worthlefs  Fellow.     Ob- 
ferve  tpo,  by  what  Means  this  Fidion  mull  be  car- 
ried on.     You  mufl  hire  fome  paultry  Slaves,    and 
get  pofTeffed  of  a  few  little  Pieces  of  Plate,    and 
often  Ihow  them  in  public ;   and,  though  they  are 
the  fame,    endeavour  to  conceal  that  they  are  the 
fame  r'you  mufl  have  gay  Clothes,  and  other  Fine^ 
ry  ;  and  make  a  Show  of  being  honoured  by  your 
great  People  ;   and  endeavour  to  fup  with  them, 
or  be  thought  to  fup  with  them  ;  and  ufe  fome  vile 
Arts  with  your  Perfon,    to  make  it  appear  hand- 
fomer  and  genteeller  than  it  really  is.     Ail  this  you 
muft  contrive,   if  you  would  take  the  fecond  W'ay 
not  to  be  pitied.     And  the  firfl  is  impradicable,  as 
well  as  tedious,  to  undertake  the  very  Thing,  that 
Jtipiier  himfelf  could  not  do  :  to  convince  all  Man- 
kind what  Things  are  really  good  and  evil.     Is  this 
granted  you  }    The  only  Thing  granted  you  is,  to 

convince 


Chap.  6.  E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  345 

' convince j^jz/r///;  and  you  have  not  yet  done  that: 
and  do  you,  notwithftanding,  undertake  to  con- 
vince others  ?  Why,  who  hath  lived  fo  long  with 
you,  as  you  have  with  yourfelf  ?  Who  is  fo  likely 
to  have  Faith  in  you,  in  order  to  be  convinced  by 
you,  as  you  in  yourfelf?  Who  is  a  better  Wither, 
or  a  nearer  Friend  to  you,  than  you  to  yourfelf  ? 
How  is  it  then,  that  you  have  not  yet  convinced 
yourfelf  Should  not  you  (a)  nov/  turn  thefe  Things 
every  way  in  your  Thoughts  ?  What  you  were  ftu- 
dying  was  this :  to  learn  to  be  exempt  from  Grief, 
Penurbation,  and  Meannefs,  and  to  be  free.  Have 
not  you  heard  then,  that  the  only  way  that  leads  to 
this  is,  to  give  up  what  doth  not  depend  on 
Choice  :  to  withdraw  from  it  ^  and  confels,  that  it 
belongs   to  others  ?    W^hat  kind  of  Thing  then  is 

another's  Opinion  about  you  P "  Independent 

'^  on  Choice." Is  it  nothing  then  to  you  ? 

"  Nothing." While  you  are  dill  piqued  and  di- 

fturbed  about  it  then,  do  you  think,  that  you  are 
convinced  concerning  Good  and  Evil. 

§.  2.  Letting  others  alone  then,  why  will  you 
not  be  your  own  Scholar  and  Teacher  }  Let  others 
look  to  it,  v/hether  it  be  for  their  Advantage  to 
think  and  adt  contrary  to  Nature  :  but  no  one  is 
nearer  to  me  than  myfelf.  What  then  is  the  Mea- 
ning of  this  ?  I  have  heard  the  Reafonings  of  Phi- 
lofophers,  and  aflented  to  them  :  yet,  in  fad,  I  am 
never  the  more  relieved.  Am  I  fo  ftupid,  and  yet 
in  other  Things,    that  I  had  an  Inclination  to,    I 

was 

{a)  The  Text  here  Is  either  corrupt,  or  very  elliptical  and 
oblcure  ;  and  the  Tranflarion  conje6tural.  Avu  xara  hath  the 
fame  Senfe  in  the  next  Page  but  one,  which  is  afligned  to  it 
here.  The  aea  before  ^amv^uvhv  is  omitted,  as  being  probably  a 
Corruption  of  the  lad  Syllable  of  the  preceding  Word,  written 
twice  over.  Mr.  Upton\  MS.  cuts  the  Difficulty  Ihort,  by  leaving 
out  feveral  Words  ;  in  confequence  of  which,  the  Tranflation. 
would  be;  //o^y  is  it  then  ^  that  pu  ha've  not  yet  brought  yourfelf 
to  learn  to  be  exempt,  &c. 


S^6  Th  Discourses  of        Book  IV. 

was  not  found  very  ftupid  :    but  I  quickly  learned 
Grammar,  and  the  Exercifes  of  the  PaUJiray    and 
Geometry,  and  the  Solution  of  Syllogifms.     Hath 
not  Reafon  then  convinced  me  ?    And  yet  there  is 
no  one  of  the  other  Things,  that  I  fo  much  appro- 
ved or  liked  from  the  very  firft.     And  now  I  read 
concerning  thefe  Subjedls,    I  hear  Difcourfes  upon 
them,    I  write  about  them,    and  I  have  not  yet 
found  any  Reafoning  of  greater  Strength  than  this. 
What  then  do  I  want  ?  Is  it  not,  that  the  contrary 
Principles  are  not  removed  out  of  my  Mind  ?  Is  it 
not,    that  I  have  not  ftrengthened  thefe  Opinions 
by  Exercife,  nor  accuftomed  them  to  occur  in  Ac- 
tion ;  but,  like  Arms  thrown  afide,  they  are  grown 
rufly,  and  do  not  fit  m.e  ?  Yet  neither  in  the  Pa- 
lafira^  nor  writing,  nor  reading,  nor  foiving  Syllo- 
gifms, am  I  contented  with  mere  Learning :  but  I 
turn  the  Arguments  every  way,  which  are  prefent- 
ed  to  me,  and  I  compofe  others ;  and  the  fame  of 
convertible  Proportions.     But  the  neceflary  Theo- 
rems,   by  which  I  might  become  exempted  from 
Fear,  Grief,  Fallion,  unreilrained  and  free,    I  nei- 
ther exercife,    nor  ftudy,    with  a  proper  Applica- 
tion.    And  then  I  trouble  myfelf,  what  others  will 
lay  of  me ;  whether  I  fhall  appear  to  them  worthy 
of  Regard  -,    whether  I  (hall  appear  happy. — Will 
you  not  fee.    Wretch,    what  you  can  fay  of  your- 
felf  P  What  fort  of  Ferfon  you  appear  to  ycur/eift 
in  your  Opinions,  in  your  Defires,-  in  your  Averfi- 
ons,  in  your  Purfuits,  in  your  Preparation,  in  your 
Intention,   in  the  other  proper  Works  of  a  !Vlan  ? 
But,  inllead  of  that,  do  you  trouble  yourfelf,  whe- 
ther oibers  pity  you  ? — "  Very  true.     But  I  am  pi- 
"  tied  improperly." — Then  are  not  you  pained  by 
this  ?  And  is  not  he  who  is  in  Pain  to  be  pitied.-— 
"  Yes." — How  then  are  you  pitied  improperly? 
For  you  render  yourfelf  worthy  of  Pity  by  what 
you  fufFer  upon  being  pitied. 

§•3- 


Chap.  6.  E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  347 

§.  3.  What  {ays  Antifthen-fs  then  ?  Have  yon  ne- 
ver heard  ?  "  It  is  kingly,  O  Cyrus ^  to  do  well, 
"  and  to  be  ill  fpoken  o7."  My  Head  is  well,  and 
all  around  me  think  it  akes.  What  is  that  to  me? 
I  am  free  from  a  Fever ;  and  they  conipalFionate 
me,  as  if  I  had  one.  "  Poor  Soul,  what  a  long 
*'•  while  have  you  had  this  Fever !"  I  fay  too,  with 
a  difmal  Countenance,  Ay,  indeed,  it  is  now  a 
long  time  that  1  have  been  ill. — ''  What  can  be 

**  the  Confequence  then  ?" What  pleafes  God. 

Aixl  at  the  fame  time  1  fecretly  laugh  at  them, 
who  pity  me.  What  forbids  then,  but  that  the 
fame  may  be  done  in  the  other  Caie  P  1  am  poor  : 
but  I  have  right  Principles  concerning  Poverty. 
What  is  it  to  me  then,  if  People  pity  me  for  my 
Poverty  ?  I  am  not  in  Power,  and  others  are  :  but 
I  have  fuch  Opinions  as  I  ought  to  have  concerning 
Power,  and  the  want  of  Power.  Let  them  fee  to 
it,  who  pity  me.  But  I  am  neither  hungry,  nor 
thirty,  nor  cold.  But,  becaufe  they  are  hungry 
and  thirfly,  they  fiippofe  me  to  be  fo  too.  What 
can  1  do  for  thern  then  ^  Am  I  to  go  about,  making 
Proclamation,  and  faying.  Do  not  deceive  your- 
felves,  good  People,  I  am  very  well :  I  regard  nei- 
ther Poverty,  nor  want  of  Power,  nor  any  thing 
elfe,  but  right  Principles.  Thefe  I  poffels  unre- 
flrained.  I  care  for  nothing  farther. — But  what 
trifling  is  this  .^  How  have  I  right  Principles,  when 
I  am  not  contented  to  be  what  1  am  \  but  am  out  of 
my  Wits,  how  I  Ihall  appear  } — But  others  will  get 
more,  and  be  preferred  to  me. — Why,  what  is 
more  reafonable,  than  that  they  who  take  pains  for 
any  thing,  fhould  get  m^oft  in  that  Particular,  in 
which  they  take  pains  ?  They  have  taken  pains  for 
Power  ;  you,  for  right  Principles  :  they,  for  Riches  ; 
you,  for  a  proper  Ufe  of  the  Appearances  of  things. 
See  whether  they  have  the  Advantage  of  you  in 
that,  for  v/hich  you  have  taken  pains,  and  which 
they  negled  :    if  they  alTent  better,  concerning  the 

natural 


348  T'i'^?  D  I  s  c  o  u  R  s  E  s  d?/        Book  IV 

natural  Bounds  and  Limits  of  Things;  if  their  De- 
fires  are  lefs  difappointed  than  yours,  their  Averfi-^ 
ons  lefs  incurred  ;  if  they  take  a  better  Aim  in  their 
Intention,  in  their  Parpofes,  in  their  Purfuits:  whe- 
ther they  preferve  a  becoming  Behaviour,  as  Men, 
as  Sons,  as  Parents,  and  fo  on  in  refpe6t  of  the 
other  P^elations  of  Life.  But,  if  they  are  in  Power, 
and  you  not  {b) :  why  will  you  not  fpeak  the  Truth 
to  yourfeif  i  that  you  do  nothing  for  the  fake  of 
Power  ;  but  that  rhey  do  every  thing  ?  And  it  is 
very  unreafonable,  that  he  who  carefully  fecks  any 
thing,  fhould  be  lefs  fuccefsful  than  he  who  ne- 
glects it.-—"  No :  but  fmce  I  take  Care  to  have 
''  right  Principles,  it  is  more  reafonable  that  I  fhould 
*'  have  Power."~-Yes,  in  refped  to  what  you  take 
Care  about,  your  Principles.  But  give  up  to  others 
the  Things,  in  which  they  have  taken  more  Care 
than  you.  Elfe  it  is  jufl  as  if,  becaufe  you  have 
right  Principles,  you  fhould  think  it  fit,  that  when 
you  fhoot  an  Arrow,  you  fhould  hit  the  Mark  bet- 
ter than  an  Archer,  or  that  you  fliould  forge  better 
than  a  Smith.  Therefore  let  alone  taking  pains 
about  Principles,  and  apply  yourfelf  to  the  Things 
which  you  wifh  to  pofTefs,  and  then  fall  a  crying,  if 
you  do  not  fuceeed  ;  for  you  deferve  to  cry.  But 
nov/  you  fay,  that  you  are  engaged  in  other  Things ; 
intent  upon  other  Things  :  and  it  is  a  true  Saying, 
that  one  Bufmefs  doth  not  fuit  with  another.  One 
Man,  as  foon  as  he  rifes  and  goes  out,  feeks  to  whom 
he  may  pay  his  Compliments ;  whom  he  may  flatter ; 
to  whom  he  may  fend  a  Prefent ;  how  he  may  pleafe 
the  Dancer  [in  vogue]  ;  how,  by  doing  ill-natured 
Offices  to  one,  he  may  oblige  another.  Whenever 
he  prays,  he  prays  for  nothing  like  thefe :  whenever 
he  facrifice,  he  facrifices  for  Things  like  thefe.  To 
thefe  he  transfers  the  Pythagorean  Precept  5 

Let 

(h)  I  have  tranflated  thus,  on  the  Suppofition,  that  w  In  the 
Original  ought  tg  he  repeated. 


Chap.  6.         E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  349 

Let  riot  the  fiealing  God  of  Sleep  furprife^  &c. 

{c)  Where  have  I  failed  in  Point  of  Flattery?  fVhat 
have  I  done  ?  Any  thing  like  a  free,  brave-fpi- 
rired  Man  ?  If  he  fiiould  find  any  thing  of  this 
Sort,  he  rebukes  and  accufes  himfelf.  "  What 
"  Bufmefs  had  you  to  fay  that  ?  For  could  not 
*'  you  have  lied  ?  Even  the  Philofophers  fay,  there 
"  is  no  Objedion  againft  telling  a  Lye.'\ 

§.  4.  But  en  the  other  hand,  if  you  have  in 
reality  been  careful  about  nothing  elfe,  but  to  make 
a  right  Ufe  of  the  Appearance  of  Things;  as  foon 
as  you  are  up  in  a  Morning,  confider,  what  do  I 
want  in  order  to  be  free  from ^Paflion  ?  What,  to 
enjoy  Tranquillity  ?  What  am  1  ?  Am  I  mere 
worthlefs  Body  ?  Am  I  Eflate  ?  Am  I  Reputa- 
tion ?  None  of  thefe.  What  then  ?  I  am  a  rea- 
fonable  Creature.  What  then  is  required  of  me  ? 
Recoiled  your  Adtions.  Inhere  have  I  failed,  in 
anyRequiiite  for  Profperity  ?  IVhat  have  I  done^ 
either  unfriendly,  or  unfociable?  What  have  I 
omitted,  that  was  neceflary  in  thefe  Points  ? 

§.  5.  Since  there  is  fo  much  Difference  then  in 
your  Defires,  your  Adions,  your  Wifhes,  would 
you  yet  have  an  equal  Share  with  others  in  thofe 
Things,  about  which  you  have  not  taken  Pains, 
and  they  have  ?  And  do  you  wonder,  after  all, 
and  are  you  out  of  Humour,  if  they  pity  you  ? 
But  they  are  not  out  of  Humour,  if  you  pity  them. 
Why  ?  Becaufe  they  are  convinced,  that  they  are 
in  Pofieflion  of  their  proper  Good ;  but  you  are 
not  convinced  that  you  are.  Hence  you  are  not 
contented  with  your  own  Condition  ;  but  defire 
theirs  :  whereas  they  are  contented  W'ith  theirs,  and 
do  not  defire  yours.  For,  if  you  were  really  con- 
vinced, that  it  is  you  v/ho  are  in  Pofleflion  of  what 
is  good,  and  that  they  are  miftaken,  you  v/ould  not 
fo  much  as  think  what  they  fay  about  you. 

CHAP- 

(c)  See  the  Pythagorean  Verfes  (quoted  in  B.  III.  c.  lo.)  ot 
which  thefe  Queilions  are  a  Parody. 


350  The  Discourses    of       Book  IV, 

CHAPTER    VII. 

Of  Fearlcffnefs, 

§.  I .  TT  THAT  makes  a  Tyrant  formidable } 
W  His  Guards,  fay  you,  and  their  Swords  ; 
they  who  belong  to  the  Bed-chamber  \  and  they 
who  fhut  out  thofe,  who  vvouid  go  in.  What  is 
the  Reafon  then,  that,  if  you  bring  a  Child  to  him 
when  he  is  furrounded  by  his  Guards,  it  is  not 
afraid }  Is  it  becaufe  the  Child  doth  not  know 
what  they  mean }  Suppofe  then,  that  any  one 
doth  know  what  is  meant  by  Guards,  and  that  they 
are  armed  with  Swords  ;  and,  for  that  very  Reafon, 
comes  in  the  Tyrant's  Way,  beings  defirous,  on 
account  of  fome  Misfortune,  to  die,  and  feeking 
to  die  eafily  by  the  Hand  of  another :  Doth  fuch  a 
Man  fear  the  Guards  }  No  :  for  he  wants  the  very 
Thing,  that  renders  them  formidable.  Well  then  : 
if  any  one,  without  an  abfolute  Defire  to  live  or 
die,  but,  as  it  may  happen,  comes  in  the  Way  of 
a  Tyrant,  what  reflrains  his  approaching  him  with- 
out Fear  }  Nothing.  If  then  another  fhould 
think  concerning  his  Eftate,  or  Wife,  or  Children, 
as  this  Man  doth  concerning  his  Body  \  and,  in 
fhort,  from  fome  Madnefs  or  Folly,  fhould  be  of 
ilich  a  Difpofition,  as  not  to  care  whether  he  hath 
them,  or  hath  them  not ;  but,  as  Children,  play-j 
ing  with  Shells,  m.ake  a  Difference  indeed  in  th< ' 
Play,  but  do  not  trouble  themfelves  about  th^ 
Shells  ;  fo  he  i%ould  pay  no  Regard  to  the  Materi 
als  [of  Adion]  ;  but  apply  himfelf  to  the  playin< 
with,  and  Management  of,  them  ;  what  Tyrant, 
what  Guards,  or  their  Swords,  are  any  longer  for- 
midable to  fuch  a  Man  .^ 


§.  2. 


Chap.  7.         E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  351 

§.  2.  And  is  it  pofllble,  that  any  one  (hould  be  thus 
difpofed  towards  thefe  Things  from  Madnefs  (a) ; 
and  the  Galileans,  from  mere  Habit ;  yet  that  no 
one  fhould  be  able  to  learn,  from  Reafon  and  De- 
monftration,  that  Godmade  all  Thingsin  the  World, 
and  the  whole  World  itfelf,  iinrellrained  and  perfed; 
and  all  its  Parts  for  the  Ufe  of  the  Whole  ?  All  other 
Creatures  are  indeed  excluded  from  a  Power  of  com- 
prehending the  Adminiftration  of  the  World  ;  but 
a  reafonable  Being  hath  Abilities  for  the  Confidera- 
tionof  all  thefe  Things:  both  that  it  [felfj  is  a 
Part,  and  what  Part ;  and  that  it  is  fit  the  Parts 
fhould  fubmit  to  the  Whole.  Befides,  being  by  Na- 
ture conftituted  noble,  magnanimous,  and  free,  it 
fees,  that,  of  the  Things  which  relate  to  it,  fome 
are  unreflrained  and  in  its  own  Power,  fome  re- 
firained,  and  in  the  Power  of  others :  the  unre- 
flrained, fuch  as  depend  on  Choice  ;  the  retrained, 
fuch  as  do  not  depend  on  it.  And,  for  this  Reafon, 
if  it  elleems  its  Good  and  its  Interefl  to  confifl  in 
Things  unreflrained,  and  in  its  own  Power,  it  will 

be 

(a)^  Epiaetus,  probably,  means,  not  any  remaining  Difci- 
ples  or  Jucias  o{ Galilee,  but  the  Chrillians,  whom  Julian  af- 
terwards afreaed  to  call  Galileans.  It  helps  to  confirm  thfs 
Opinion  that  M.  Antoninus  (L  2.  §.  3.)  mentions  them,  by  their 
proper  Name  of  Chrillians,  as  fufFering  Death  out  of  mere  Ob- 
Itmacy.  It  would  have  been  more  reafonable,  and  more  wor- 
thy  the  Charaaer  of  thefe  great  Men,  to  have  enquired  into 
the  Prmaples,    on   which  the  Chriftians   refufed  to  worlhlp 

L  .^  cfV  '  ^"^  ^^  "^'^'^^  ^^^y  ^^^^  enabled   to  fupport 

their  Sufferings  with  fuch  amazing  Conftancy,  than  raHily  to 
pronounce  their  Behaviour  the  Efieft  of  Obrtinacy  and  Habit. 
Epi^efusand  Antoninus  were  too exaft  Judges  of  human  Nature' 
not  to  know,  that  rgnominy,Tortures,  and  Death,  are  not,  merely 
on  their  own  Account,  Objefts  of  Choice  :  nor  could  the  Re- 
cords of  any  Time  or  Nation,  furnl/h  them  with  an  Example 
of  Multitudes  ofPerfons  of  both  Sexes,  of  all  Ages,  Ranks 
and  natural  Difpofitions,  in  diftant  Countries,  and  fuccelTive 
Fenods,  refigning  whatever  is  molt  valuable  and  dear  to  the 
Heart  of  Man,  from  a  Principle  of  Objlinacy,  or  the  mere  Force 

?k  ^  a'c*  T  ^°  *^>''  ^^'^  ^^^'^  ^^"^^  *^ave  no  Influence  on 
tne  nrft  Sufferers. 


352         <  ^^s  Discourses  of     Book  IV. 

be  free,  profperous,  happy,  unhurt,  magnanimous, 
pious;  thankful  {b)  to  God  for  everything;  never 
finding  fauk  with  any  thing,  never  cenfuring  any 
thing  that*  is  brought  to  pafs  by  him.  But,  if  it 
efleems  its  Good,  and  its  Intereft,  to  confiil:  in  Ex- 
ternals, and  Things  independent  on  Choice,  it  muft 
neceflarily  be  reftrained,  be  hindered,  be  enfiaved 
to  thofe  who  have  the  Power  over  thofe  Things 
which  it  admires,  and  fears ;  it  mufl  neceflarily  be 
impious,  as  fuppofing  itlelf  injured  by  God,  and  un- 
equitable, as  claiming  more  than  its  Share  ;  it  mufl 
neceflarily  too  be  abjed,  and  mean-fpirited. 

§.  3.  What  forbids,  but  that  he,  who  difliin- 
guillies  thefe  Things,  may  live  with  an  eafy  and 
light  Heart,  quietly  expeding  whatever  may  hap- 
pen, and  bearing  contentedly  what  hath  happen- 
ed ?  Would  you  have  Poverty  [be  my  Lot]  ? 
Bring  it ;  and  you  fhall  fee  what  Poverty  is,  when 
it  hath  got  one  to  ad  it  well.  Would  you  have 
Power  ?  Bring  Toils  too  along  with  it.  Banifli- 
ment  ?  Where-ever  I  go,  it  will  be  well  with  me 
there  :  for  it  was  well  with  me  here^  not  on  account 
of  the  Place,  but  of  the  Principles,  which  I  fhali 
carry  away  with  me ;  for  no  one  can  deprive  me 
of  thefe:  on  the  contrary,  they  alone  are  my  Pro- 
perty, and  cannot  be  taken  away  ;  and  retaining 
them,  fuffices  me  where>ever  I  am,  or  what-ever  I 

cjo. "  But  it  is    now  time  to  die.*'— — 

What  is  it  that  you  call  dying  (c)  I  Do  not  talk  of 
the  Thing  in  a  Tragedy  Strain-,  but  fay,  as  the 
Truth  is,  that  it  is  Time  for  a  compound  Piece  of 
Matter  to  be  refolved  back  into  its  Original.  And 
where  is  the  Terror  of  this?  What  Part  of  the 
World  is  going  to  be  loft  ^  What  is  going  to  hap- 
pen new,  or  prodigious?  Is  it  for  this,  that  a 
Tyrant  is  formidable?     Is   it   on   this   Account, 

that 

{h)  This  agrees  with  Eph-  v.  20.  Gi'ving  thanks  always  for 
all  Things  unto  God . 

(r)  The  Tranflation  here  follows  Mr.  Uptons  Manufcrlpt, 
and  Emendation. 


Chap.  7.         E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  ^5^ 

that  the  Swords  of  his  Guards  feem  fo  large  and 
fharp  ?  Try  tliefe  Things  upon  others.  For  my 
Part,  I  have  examined  the  Whole.  Ho  one  hath 
an  Authority  over  me.  God  hath  made  me  free  : 
1  knov/  his  Commands  :  after  this,  no  one  can  en- 
Have  me.  I  have  a  proper  AlTertor  of  my  Free- 
dom ;  proper  Judges.  Is  it  not  of  my  Body,  that 
you  are  the  Mafter  ?  What  is  that  to  me  then  ^ 
Of  that  Trifle  my  Eftate  ?  What  is  that  to  me 
then  ?  Is  it  not  of  Banifhment  and  Chains,  that 
you  are  the  Mafter  ?  Why,  all  thefe  again^  and 
my  whole  Body  I  give  up  to  you  :  when-ever  you 
pleafe,  make  a  Trial  of  your  Power,  and  you  will 
find  how  far  it  extends. 

§.  4.  Whom  then  can  I  any  longer  fear  ?  Thofe 
who  belong  to  the  Bed-chamber  ?   Left  they  fhould 

do What  ?    Shut  me  out  ?    If  they  find  me  de- 

firous  to  come  in,  let  them. "  Why  do  you 

"  come  to  the  Door  then  .?" — — Becaufe  it  is  fitting 
for  me,  that  while  the  Play  lafts,  I  fhould  play 

too. "  How  then  are  you  incapable  of  being 

"  fhut  out  ?" -Becaufe,  if  I  am  not  admitted,  I 

would  not  wifh  to  go  in ;  but  would  much  rather, 
that  Things  fliould  be  as  they  are :  for  1  efteem 
what  God  wills,  to  be  better  than  what  I  will  (d), 
I  give  myfelf  up  a  Servant  and  a  Follower  to  him. 
I  purfue,  I  defire,  in  fhort,  I  will  along  with  Him. 
Being  fhut  out  doth  not  relate  to  me ;  but  to  thofe 
who  pufh  to  get  in.  Why  then  do  not  I  pufti  too .? 
Becaufe  I  know,  that  there  is  not  any  Good  diflri- 
buted  there  to  thofe  who  get  in.  But  when  I  hear 
any  one  congratulated  on  the  Favour  of  C^far^  I 

fay,  What  hath  he  got .? •''  A  Province  (<?}." 

Hath  he  then  got  fuch  Principles  too,  as  he 
ought  to  have  ? ''  A  public  Charge."- -Hath 

(d)  Ne'verthelefs  not  as   I  <will,  but  as  Thou  nvi/t,     Matth. 
xxvi.  39. 

[e)  The  Trandation  of  this  Paflaffe  follows  the  Conje(5lure  of 
PP'o/fus. 

A  a  he 


354  ^^^  Discourses  of        Book  IV. 

he  then  got  with  it  the  Knowledge  how  to  ufe  it 
too  ?  If  not,  why  fhould  I  be  thruft  about  any 
longer  to  get  in  ?  Some  one  fcatters  Nuts  and  Figs. 
Children  fcramble  and  quarrel  fc^r  thtm ;  but  not 
Men  :  for  they  think  them  Trifles.  But,  if  any 
one  fhould  fcatrer  Shells,  not  even  Children  would 
fcramble  for  thefe.  Provinces  are  diftributing.  Let 
Children  look  to  it.  Money.  Let  Children  look 
to  it.  Military  Command,  a  Confulfhip.  Let 
Children  fcramble  for  them.  Let  thefe  be  fhut 
out,  be  beat,  kifs  the  Hands  of  the  Giver,  of  his 
Slavics.     But   tome,  they   are  but  mere  Figs  and 

Nuts.- ''  What  then  is  to  be  done  V if  you 

mi(s  them,  while  he  is  throwing  them,  do  not 
trouble  yourfelf  about  it :  but,  if  a  Fig  fhould  fall 
into  your  Lap,  take  it,  and  eat  it ;  for  one  may 
pay  fo  much  Regard  even  to  a  Fig.  But,  if  I  am 
to  ftocp  and  throv*^  down  one,  or  be  thrown  down 
by  another,  and  flatter  thofe  who  are  got  in,  a  Fig 
is  not  worth  this,  nor  any  other  of  the  Things 
which  are  not  really  good,  and  which  the  Philofo- 
phers  have  perfuaded  me  not  to  efteem  as  good. 

§.  5.  Show  me  the  Swords  of  the  Guards. 
"  See  how  big,  and  how  (liarp  they  are."— — 
What  then  do  thefe  great  and  iharp  Swords  do  .'*— 

''  They  kill." And  what  doth  a  Fever  do  ? 

"  Nothing  elfe," And  a  Tile  } -''  Nothing 

*'  elfe." Would  you  have  me  then  be  ftruck 

with  an  awful  Admiration  of  all  thefe,  and  wor- 
fhip  them,  and  go  about  a  Slave  to  them  all  ? 
Heaven  forbid !  But,  having  once  learnt,  that  eve- 
ry thing  that  is  born  mufl  likewife  die,  (that  the 
World  may  not  be  at  a  Stand,  or  the  Courfe  of  it 
hindered),  I  no  longer  make  any  Difference,  whe- 
ther this  be  effeded  by  a  Fever,  or  a  Tile,  or  a 
Soldier :  but,  if  any  Comparifon  is  to  be  made,  I 
know,  that  the  Soldier  will  effedt  it  with  lefs  Pain, 
and  more  fpeedily.  Since  then  I  neither  fear  any 
of  thofe  Things,  which  he  can  inflidt  upon  me,  nor 

covet 


Chap.  7.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  355 

covet  any  thing  which  he  can  beflow,  why  do  I 
(land  any  longer  in  Awe  of  a  Tyrant?  Why  am  I 
flruck  v/ith  Ailonifhment  ?  Why  do  I  fear  his 
Guards?  Why  do  I  rejoice,  if  he  fpeaks  kindly  to 
me,  and  receives,  me  gracioufly ;  and  relate  to  o- 
thers,  in  what  Manner  he  fpoke  to  me  ?  For  is  He 
Socrates^  or  Diogenes^  that  his  Praife  fhould  fhow 
what  I  am  ?  Or  have  I  fet  my  Heart  on  imitating 
his  Manners  ?  But,  to  keep  up  the  Play,  I  go  to 
him,  and  ferve  him,  as  long  as  he  commands  no- 
thing unreafonable  or  improper.  But,  if  he  fhould 
fay  to  me,  "  Go  to  Salami's^  and  bring  Leo  (/)," 
I  anfwer  him.  Seek  another,  for  I  play  no  longer. 

• ''  Lead  him  away." 1  follow,  in  Sport. 

"  But  your  Head  will  be  taken  off." And 

will  his  own  always  remain  on  ;  or  yours,  who  obey 
him  ?— — ''  But  you  will  be  thrown  out,  unbu- 

ried." If  I  am  the  Corpfe,  /  fhall  be  thrown 

out ;  but  if  /am  fomething  elfe  than  the  Corpfe  (g)^ 
fpeak  more  handfomely,  as  the  Thing  is,  and  do 
not  think,  to  fright  me.  Thefe  Things  are  fright- 
ful to  Children  and  Fools.  But  if  any  one,  who 
hath  once  entered  into  the  School  of  a  Philofopher, 
doth  not  know  what  he  himfelf  is,  he  defer ves  to 
be  frighted,  and  to  flatter  what  he  lately  flattered ; 
if  he  hath  not  yet  learnt,  that  he  is  neither  Flefh, 
nor  Bones,  nor  Nerves ;  but  that  which  makes  ufe 
of  thefe,  and  regulates  and  comprehends  the  Ap- 
pearances of  Things. 

§.  6,  ''  W^ell :  but  thefe  Reafonings  make  Men 

*'  defpife  the    Laws." And   what   Reafonings 

then  render  thofe,  who  ufe  them,  more  obedier.t 
to  the  Laws  ?  But  the  Lrvr  of  Fools  is  no  Law. 
And  yet,  fee  how  thefe  Reafonings  render  us  pro- 
perly difpofed,  even  towards  fuch  Ferfons,  fmce 
A  a  2  they 

(/)  An  AUufion  to  the  Story,  mentioned  in  the  firfl  Chap- 
ter of  this  Book,  p.  324.  Note  {e). 
(g)  See  p.  2S8.  Note  {iv). 


^^,6  The  Discourses  of        Book  IV- 

they  teach  us,  not  to  claim,  in  Oppofition  to  them, 
any  thing  wherein  they  have  it  in  their  Power  to  be 
fuperior  to  us.  They  teach  us  to  give  up  Body, 
to  give  up  Eftate,  Children,  Parents,  Brothers,  to 
yield  every  thing,  to  let  go  every  thing,  excepting 
only  Principles  -,  which  even  Jupiter  hath  excepted, 
and  decreed  to  be  every  one's  own  Property,  What 
Unreafonablenefs,  what  Breach  of  the  Laws,  is 
there  in  this  ?  Where  you  are  fuperior  and  ftron- 
ger,  there  I  give  way  to  you  :  Where,  on  the  con- 
trary, I  am  fuperior,  do  you  fubmit  to  me  -,  for 
this  hath  been  my  Study,  and  not  yours.  Your 
Study  hath  been  to  walk  upon  a  Mojaic  Floor,  to 
be  attended  by  your  Servants  and  Clients,  to  wear 
fine  Clothes,  to  have  a  great  Number  of  Hunters, 
Fiddlers,  and  Players.  Do  I  lay  any  Claim  [to 
thefe  ?J  but  [on  the  other  hand,]  have  you  then 
fludied  Principles,  or  even  your  own  rational  Fa- 
culty ?  Do  you  know,  of  what  Parts  it  confifts  ? 
How  they  are  conneded ;  what  are  its  Articulati- 
ons ;  what  Powers  it  hath,  and  of  what  Kind  ? 
Why  then  do  you  take  it  amifs,  if  another,  who 
hath  ftudied  them,  hath  the  Advantage  of  you  in 

thefe  Things  ? "  But  they  are  of  all  Things 

*'  the  greateil.'* Well :  and  who  reflrains  you 

from  being  converfant  with  them,  and  attending  to 
them  ever  fo  carefully  }  Or  who  is  better  provided 
with  Books,  with  Leifure,  with  Afliftants  ^  Only 
turn  your  Thoughts  now- and -then  to  thefe  Mat- 
ters ;  beftow  but  a  little  Time  upon  your  own  rul- 
ing Faculty.  Confider  what  it  is  you  have,  and 
whence  it  came,  that  ufes  all  other  Things,  that 
examines  them  all,  that  chufes,  that  rejects.  But 
while  you  employ  yourfelf  about  Externals,  you  will 
have  thofe  indeed,  fuch  as  no  one  elfe  hath  ;  but 
your  ruling  Faculty,  fuch  as  you  like  to  have  it,  for- 
did and  negledted. 

C  H  A  P. 


Chap.  8.        EPICTETUS.  357 

CHAPTER    VIII. 

Concerning  Juch  as  haftily   run  inlo  the  fhilofopbic 
Drefs, 

§.  I .  XT  EVER  commend  or  cenfure  any  one 
XN  for  common  Adions,  nor  afcribe  them 
either  to  Skilfulnefs  or  Unfkilfulnefs ;  and  thus  you 
will  at  once  be  free  both  from  RaHinefs  and  Illr 
nature.  Such  a  one  bathes  in  a  mighty  little  Time. 
Doth  he  therefore  do  it  ill  ?      Not  at  all.     But 

what  ?     In  a  mighty  little  Time. "  Is  every 

*'  thing  well  done  then  }'^ By  no  means.     But 

what  is  done  from  good  Principles  is  well  done ; 
what  from  bad  ones,  ill.  But  till  you  know  from 
what  Principle  any  one  a6ts,  neither  commend  nor 
cenfure  the  Adion.  But  the  Principle  is  not  eafily 
judged  of  from  the  external  Appearances.  Such  a 
one  is  a  Carpenter.  Why.''  He  ufes  an  Axe. 
What  fignifies  that  ?  Such  a  one  is  a  Mufician : 
for  he  fings.  What  fignifies  that.?  Such  a  one  is 
a  Philofbpher.  W^hy  ?  Becaufe  he  wears  a  Cloke 
and  long  Hair.  What  then  do  Mountebanks  wear  ? 
And  fo,  when  People  fee  any  of  thefe  adting  inde- 
cently, they  prefently  fay,  "  See  (a)  what  the  Phi-r 
*'  lofopber  doth."  But  they  ought  rather,  from 
his  ading  indecently,  to  fay,  he  is  no  Philofopher. 
For,  if  indeed  the  Idea,  which  we  have  of  a  Philo- 
fopher, and  his  Profeflion,  was,  to  wear  a  Cloke 
and  long  Hair,  they  would  fay  right :  but,  if  it  be 
rather  to  keep  himfelf  free  from  Faults,  fnice  he 
doth  not  fulfil  his  Profeflion,  why  do  not  they  de- 
prive him  of  his  Title  ?  For  this  is  the  Way  with 
regard  to  other  Arts.  When  we  fee  any  one  han- 
dle an  Axe  aukwardly,  we  do  not  fay,  '^  Where  ia 
"  the  Ufe  of  this  Art  .?  See  how  ill  Carpenters  per- 
A  a  3  '*  form.'-' 

{a)  Perhaps  the  true  Reading  is  c  S  ^jTtocro^o;, 


358  ^he  Discourses  e»/         Book  IV. 

*'  form."  But  we  fay  the  very  contrary :  "  This 
*'  Man  is  no  Carpenter ;  for  he  handles  an  Axe 
"  aukwardly."  So,  if  we  hear  any  one  fing  badly, 
we  do  not  fay,  "  Obferve  how  Muficians  fing." 
but  rather,  ''  This  Fellow  is  no  Mufician."  It  is 
with  regard  to  Philofophy  alone,  that  People  are 
thus  afFeded.  When  they  fee  any  one  adting  con- 
trary to  the  Profeffion  of  a  Philofopher,  they  do  not 
take  away  his  Title  ;  but,  laying  it  down,  that  he 
is  a  Philofopher,  and  then  affuming  from  the  very 
Fad  that-  he  behaves  indecently,  they  infer,  that 
Philofophy  is  of  no  Ufe. 

§.  2.  ''  What  then  is  the  Reafon  of  this  ?"  Be- 
cau(e  we  pay  fome  Regard  to  the  Pre-conception 
which  we  have  of  a  Carpenter,  and  a  Mufician, 
and  fo  of  other  Artifts ;  but  not  of  a  Philofopher  ; 
which  being  thus  vague  and  confufed,  we  judge  of 
it  only  from  external  Appearances.  And  of  what 
other  Art  do  we  take  up  our  Judgment  from  the 
Drcfs  and  the  Hair  ?  Hath  it  not  Theorems  too, 
and  Materials,  and  an  End,  [to  diftinguifh  it?] 
What  then  is  the  Subjed- matter  of  a  Philofopher  ? 

Is  it  a  Cloke  ? No  :    but  Reafon.     What  his 

End  ?    To  wear  a  Cloke  ? No  :  but  to  have  his 

Reafon  corred.     What  are  his  Theorems  ?   Are 

they  hov/  to  get  a  great  Beard,  or  long  Hair? 

No  :  but  rather,  as  Xeno  exprefles  it,  To  know  the 
Elements  of  Reafon,  what  each  of  them  is  in  par- 
ticular, and  how  they  are  adapted  to  each  other, 
and  what  are  their  Confequences. 

§.  3.  Why  then  will  you  not  firfl  fee,  whether, 
by  ading  in  an  unbecoming  Manner,  he  anfwers 
his  Profeflion,  and  fo  proceed  to  blame  the  Study  ? 
Whereas  nov/,  v/hen  you  ad  foberly  yourfelf,  you 
fay,  from  what  he  appears  to  do  amifs,  "  Obferve 
"  the  Philofopher  r'  As  if  it  was  decent  to  call  a 
Perfon,  who  doth  fuch  Things,  a  Philofopher.  And, 
again,  "  This  is  fhilofophkal T''  But  you  do  not 
fay,  *^  Obferve  the  Carpenter,  or  obferve  the  Mu- 

"  fician,'* 


Chap.  8.         E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  359 

'*  fician,"  when  you  know  one  of  them  to  be  an 
Adulterer,  or  lee  him  to  be  a  Glutton.  So,  in 
fomefmall  Degree,  even  You  perceive,  that  the 
profelFion  of  a  Philofopher  is  ;  but  are  milled,  and 
confounded  by  your  own  Careleffnefs.  But  uideed 
even  they,  who  are  called  Philoibphers,  enter  upon 
their  Profeflion  by  Things  which  are  common  to 
them  with  others.  As  foon  as  they  have  put  on  a 
Cloke,  and  let  their  Beard  grow,  they  cry,  "  I  am 
*'  a  Philofopher."  Yet  no  one  fays,  "  I  am  a  Mu- 
«  fician  •,"  b^^caufe  he  hath  bought  a  Fiddle  and 
Fiddleiliick  :  nor,  ''  I  am  a  Smith  ;"  becaule  he  is 
dreft  in  the  Vulcanian  Cap  and  Apron.  But  they 
take  their  Name  from  their  Art,  not  from  their 

Habit.  '  .       , 

§.  4.    For  this  Reafon,    Euphrates  was   in   the 

Right  to  fay,    ''  I  long  endeavoured  to  conceal  my 

^'  embracing  the  Philofophic  Life  j  and   it  was  of 

'*  Ufe  to  me.     For,  in  the  firft  place,  I  knew  that, 

"  what  I  did  right,  I  did  it  not  for  Spedators-,  but 

"  for  myfelf.     I  eat  in  a  proper  Manner,  for  my- 

"  felf.     I  had  a  compofed  Look,  and  Walk,  all  for 

"  God  and  myfelf.     Then,  as  1  fought  alone,  I  was 

*'  alone  in  Danger.     Philofophy  was  in  no  Danger, 

"  on  my  doing  any  thing  fhameful,  or  unbeconv 

"  inp- :  nor  did   1  hurt  the   reft   of  the   World  v 

"  which,  by  offending  as  a  Philofopher,  I   might 

«  have  done.     For  this  Reafon,  they  who  were  ig- 

"  norant  of  my  Intention,  ufed  to  wonder,  that 

"  while  I  converfed,  and  lived  intirely  with  Philo- 

"  fophers,  I  never  took  up  the  Character.     And 

<■'  where  was  the  Harm,  that  I  fhould  be  difcovered 

"  to  be  a  Philofopher,  by  my  Adions,  and  not  by 

*'  the  ufual  Badges.     See  how  I  eat,  how  I  drmk, 

"  how  I  deep,  how  I  bear,  how  I  forbear ;  how  I 

''  ailiit  others ;  how  I   make  ufe  of  my  Defires, 

«  how  of  my  Averfions  ;  hov/  I  preferve  the  natu- 

'«  ral  and  acquired  Relations,  without  Confufion, 

*'  a/-]  v/lthoi:t  impediment.    Judge  of  me  fmm 

*A  a  -1  ^'  hence. 


S6o  ne  Disco  u  i\sf.%  of        Book  IV. 

*'  hence,  if  you  can.  But,  if  you  are  fo  deaf  and 
*'  blind,  that  you  would  not  fuppofe  Vulcan  himfelf 
*'  to  be  a  good  Smith,  unlefs  you  faw  the  Cap  upon 
*'  his  Head,  where  is  the  Harm  of  not  b^ing  found 
♦^  out  by  fo  foolifh  a  Judge  ?" 

§.  5.  It  was  thus  too  that  Socrates  ponce^led  him- 
felf from  the  Generality  :  and  fome  even  c^me  and 
de fired  him  to  recommend  them  to  Philofophers. 
Did  he  ufe  to  be  difpleafed  then^  like  us  ;  and  fay. 
What !  do  not  you  take  me  for  a  Philofopher  ?  No : 
he  took  and  recommended  them  -,  contented  with 
only  being  a  Philofopher,  and  rejoicing  in  not  be- 
ing vexed,  that  he  was  not  thought  one.  For  he 
remembered  his  Bufmefs :  and  what  is  the  Bufinefs 
of  a  wife  and  good  Man  ?  To  have  many  Scho- 
lars ?  By  no  means.  Let  thofe  fee  to  it,  who  have 
made  this  their  Study.  Well  then  :  is  it  to  be  a  per- 
fect M  after  of  difficult  Theorems  ?  Let  others  fee 
to  that  too.  In  what  then  was  he,  and  did  he  de- 
fire  to  be,  fomebody  ?  In  what  conftituted  his 
Hurt  or  Advantage }  ^'  If,  fays  he,  any  one  can 
"  hurt  me,  I  am  doing  nothing.  If  I  depend  for 
*'  my  Advantage  upon  another,  I  am  nothing.  Do 
*'  I  wifh  for  any  thing,  and  it  doth  not  come  tq 
"  pafs  ?  I  am  unhappy."  To  fuch  a  Combat* he 
invited  every  one,  and,  in  my  Opinion,  yielded  to 
no  one.  But  do  you  think  it  was  by  making  Pro- 
clamation, and  faying,  ''  I  am  fuch  a  one  ?"  Far 
from  it :  but  by  being  fuch  a  one  For  this,  again, 
is  Folly  and  Infolence  to  fay,  '*^  I  am  impaflive  and 
*'  undiflurbed.  Be  it  known  to  you,  Mortals,  that; 
*'  while  you  are  fiuduating  and  buftling  about  for 
*'  Things  of  no  Value,  /  alone  am  free  from  all 
"  Perturbation." Are  you  then  fo  far  from  be- 
ing contented  with  having  no  Pain  yourfelf,  that 
you  mufl  needs  make  Proclamation:  *'  Come  hi^ 
*'  ther,  all  you  who  have  the  Gout,  or  the  Head- 
*'  ake,  or  a  Fever,  or  are  lame,  or  blind  j  and  fee 

''  me 


Chap.  8.  E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  361 

**  me  free  from  every  Diflemper."  This  is  vaia 
and  fliocking,  unlefs  you  could  fhow,  like  Mfada- 
P'us^  by  what  Method  of  Cure  they  may  prefently 
become  as  free  from  Diflempers  as  yourfelf,  an4 
bring  your  own  Health  as  a  Proof  of  it. 

§.  6.  Such  is  the  Cynic,  honoured  with  the  Scep- 
tre and  Diadem  from  Jove  :  wlio  fays,  "  That  yoi^ 
''  may  fee,  O  Mankind,  that  you  do  not  feek 
*'  Happinefs  and  Tranquillity  where  it  is,  but 
"  where  it  is  not ;  behold,  1  am  fent  an  Example 
*'  to  you,  from  God  -,  who  have  neither  (b)  Eftate, 
"  nor  Houfe,  nor  Wife,  nor  Children,  nor  even  a 
"  Bed,  or  Coat,  or  Furniture.  And  fee  how  heal- 
"  thy  I  am.  Try  me :  and,  if  you  fee  me  free 
^'  from  Perturbation,  hear  the  Remedies,  and  by 
"  what  Means  I  was  cured."  This  now  is  bene- 
volent and  noble.     But  confider  whofe  Bufinefs  it 

is. Jupiier^s^  or  his  whom  he  judges  worthy  of 

this  Office ;  that  he  may  never  difcover  any  thing 
to  the  World,  by  which  he  may  invahdate  his  own 
Teftimony,  which  he  gives  for  Virtue,  and  againft 
Externals. 

Nofickly  Pak  bis  beauteous  Features  wear^ 
Nor  Jrom  his  Cheek  he  wipes  the  languid  Tear. 

Homer. 

And  not  only  this,  but  he  doth  not  defire  or  feek 
for  Company  or  Place,  or  Amufement,  as  Boys  do 
the  Vintage  Time,  or  Holy-Days  :  always  fortified 
by  virtuous  Shame,  as  others  are  by  Walls,  and 
Gates,  and  Centinels. 

§.  7.  But  now  they,  who  have  only  flich  an  In- 
clination to  Philofbphy,  as  bad  Stomachs  have  to 
fome  Kinds  of  Food,  of  which  they  will  prefently 
grow  iick,  immediately  run  to  the  Sceptre,  to  the 

Kingdom. 

{h}  See  p.  257,  Note  (m). 


362  The  Discourses  of      Book  IV. 

Kingdom.  They  let  grow  their  Hair,  aflume  (d) 
the  Cloke,  bare  the  Shoulder,  wrangle  with  all 
they  meet ;  and  even,  if  they  fee  any  one  in  a 
thick  warm  Coat,  wrangle  with  him.  Firft  harden 
yourfelf  againfl  all  Weather,  Man.  Confider  your 
Inclination  ;  whether  it  be  not  that  of  a  bad  Sto- 
mach, or  of  a  longing  Woman.  Firfl  fludy  to 
conceal  what  you  are  ;  philofophife  a  little  while  by 
yourfelf.  Fruit  is  produced  thus.  The  Seed  mull 
firfl  be  buried  in  the  Ground,  lie  hid  there  fbme 
time,  and  grow  up  by  degrees,  that  it  may  come 
to  Perfedion.  But,  if  it  produces  the  Ear  before 
the  Stalk  hath  its  proper  Joints,  it  is  imperfedt, 
and  of  the  Garden  of  Adonis  (e).  Now  yoi^  are  a 
poor  Plant  of  this  Kind.  You  have  blofTomed  too 
foon  :  the  Winter  will  kill  you.  See  what  Coun- 
trymen fay  about  Seeds  of  any  Sort,  when  the  warm 
Weather  comes  too  early.  They  are  in  great  An- 
xiety, for  fear  the  Seeds  fhould  fhoot  out  too  luxu- 
riantly ;  and  then,  one  Frofl  taking  them  (/}, 
fhows  how  prejudicial  their  Forwardnefs  was.  Be- 
ware you  too,  Man.  You  have  fhot  out  luxuriant- 
ly ;  you  have  fprung  forth  towards  a  trifling  Fame, 
before  the  proper  Seafon.  You  feem  to  be  fome- 
body,  as  a  Fool  may  among  Fools.  You  will  be 
taken  by  the  Frofl: :  or  rather,  you  are  already 
frozen  downwards,  at  the  Root :  you  ftill  bloilbm 
indeed  a  little  at  the  Top,  and  therefore  you  think 
you  are  flili  alive  and  flourifliing.     Let«j,  at  lead, 

ripen 

.  {dj  Which  were  the  Character  I  flics  of  the  Cynics. 

(e)  At  the  Feail  of  Adonis  ,  there  were  carried  about  little 
Earthen  Pots,  filled  with  Mould,  in  which  grev/  feveial  Sons 
of  Herbs,  Thefe  were  called  Gardens:  and  from  thence  the 
Gardens  of  Adonis  came  to  be  proverbially  applied  to  Things 
unfruitful  or  fading ;  becaufe  thofe  Kerbs  were  only  fowed  fo 
long  before  the  Feftival,  as  to  fprout  forth  and  be  green  at  that 
Time,  and  then  v/ere  prefently  caft  into  the  Water.  See  Pot- 
ter's Grecian  Antiquities,  Chap.  20.  p.  36^. 

(/)  Here  is  a  ftrong  Similitude  to  the  Seed  in  the  Gofpels, 
that  fprung  up  quickly,  and  withered. 


Chap.  9-         E  P  1  C  T  E  T  U  S.  ^6^, 

ripen  naturally.  Why  do  you  lay  us  open  ?  Why  do 
you  force  us  ?  Wc  cannot  yet  bear  the  Air.  Suffer  the 
Root  to  grow  ;  then  the  firft,  then  the  fecond,  then 
the  third  Joint  of  the  Stalk  to  fpring  from  it ;  and 
thus  (g)  Nature  will  force  out  the  Fruit,  whether  I 
will  or  not.  For  who  that  is  big  with,  and  full  of 
fuch  Principles,  doth  not  perceive  too  his  own  Qua- 
lifications, and  exert  his  Efforts  to  correfpondent 
Operations }  Not  even  a  Bull  is  ignorant  of  his 
own  Qualifications,  when  any  wild  Beaft  approaches 
the  Herd,  nor  waits  tor  any  one  to  encourage  him^ 
nor  a  Dog,  when  he  fpies  any  Game.  And,  if  I 
have  the  Qualifications  of  a  good  Man,  fhall  I  wait 
for  you  to  qualify  me  for  my  own  proper  Operati- 
ons.'* but  believe  me,  I  have  them  not  yet.  Why 
then  would  you  wifh  me  to  be  withered  before  my 
Time,  zsyou  are  ? 

CHAPTER    IX. 

Con^cerning  a  Verfon  who  'was  grown  immodejl, 

(<?)§.  I.  TT  7  HEN  you  fee  another  in  Pov/er,  fet 
W  again  ft  it,  that  you  have  the  Ad- 
vantage of  not  wanting  Power,  W^hen  you  fee  an- 
other rich,  fee  what  you  have  inflead  of  Riches : 
for,  if  you  have  nothing  in  their  Stead,  you  are 
miferable.  But  if  you  have  the  Advantage  of  not 
needing  Riches,  know,  that  you  have  lomething 
more  than  he  hath,  and  of  far  greater  Value. 
Another  poffeffes  a  handfome  W^oman ;  you,  the 
Happinefs  of  not  defiring  a   handfome  Woman. 

Do 

[g]  This  PafTage  hath  fome  Difficulty  in  the  Original  ;  and, 
probably,  may  have  been  corrupted.  The  I'ranOation  hath 
given  what  feems  to  be  the  Senfe. 

(a)  They,  who  are  defirous  of  taking  Refuge  in  Heathenifm 
from  the  Striclnefs  of  the  Chrillian  Morality,  will  find  do  great 
Confolation  in  reading  this  Chapter  of  E^ictttm, 


^$4  ^^e  Discourses  of        Book  IV. 

Do  you  think  thefe  are  little  Matters  ?  And  what 
would  thofe  very  Perfons,  who  are  rich,  and  power- 
ful, and  poffefs  handfome  Women,  give,  that  they 
were  able  to  defpife  Riches  and  Power,  and  thofe 
very  Women  whom  they  love,  and  whom  they  ac- 
quire! Do  not  you  know  of  what  Nature  the 
Thirfl  of  one  in  a  Fever  is  ?  It  hath  no  Refem- 
blance  to  that  of  a  Perfon  in  Health.  He  drinks, 
and  is  fatisfied.  But  the  other,  after  being  delight- 
ed a  very  little  while,  grows  fick,  turns  the  Water 
into  Choler,  throws  it  up,  hath  Pain  in  his  Bowels, 
and  becomes  more  violently  thirfty.  Of  the  fame 
Nature  is  it  to  have  Riches,  or  Dominion,  or  enjoy 
a  fine  Woman,  with  Fondnefs  of  any  one  of  thefe 
Things.  Jealoufy  takes  place ;  ^Fear  of  lofing  the 
beloved  Objedt ;  indecent  Difcourfes  ,  indecent- De- 
figns  i  unbecoming  Adions. 

§.2.    "  And  what,  fay  you,  do  I  lofe  all  the 

*'  while?*' You  were  modeft,  Man,  and  are  (b 

no  longer.  Have  you  loft  nothing }  Inftead  of 
Cbryftppus  and  Zeno^  you  read  Ariftides  {b)  and 
Euenus  (c).  Have  you  loft  nothing  then  ?  Inftead 
of  Socrates  and  Diogenes,  you  admire  him  who  can 
corrupt  and  entice  the  moft  Women.  You  fet  out 
your  Perfon,  and  would  be  handfome,  when  you 
are  not.  You  love  to  appear  in  fine  Clothes,  to  at- 
trad  the  Eyes  of  the  Women  -,  and,  if  you  any- 
where meet  with  (d)  a  good  Perfumer,  you  efteem 
yourfelf  a  happy  Man.  But  formerly  you  did  not 
ib  much  as  think  of  any  of  thefe  Things  ;  but  only 
where  you  might  find  a  decent  Difcourfe,  a  wor- 
thy Perfon,  a  noble  Defign.  For  this  Reafon,  you 
ufed  to  fleep  like  a  Man ;  to  appear  in  public  like  a 
Man  ♦,  to  wear  a  manly  Drefs ;  to  hold  Difcourfes 
worthy  of  a  Man.     And  after  this,  do  you  tell  me, 

you 

(b)  An  indecent  Poet  of  Mtletus. 
{c)  A  Writer  of  amorous  Verfes, 
{^)   The   Tranll^tion  tollpws    Mr.   V/>ton's  Conjecture  of 


Chap.  9.  E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  365 

you  have  lofl  nothing  ?     What  then  do  Men  lofe 
nothing  but  Money  ?     Is  not  Modefty  to  be  loft  ? 
Is  not  Decency   to  be  loft  ?    Or  may  he,  who  lofes 
thcfe,  fuffer  no  Damage  ?    You  indeed  perhaps  no 
longer  think  any  thing  of  this  Sort  to  be  a  Damage. 
But  there  was  once  a  Time,  when  you  accounted  this 
to  be  the  only  Damage  and  Hurt ;  when  you  were  ari- 
xioufly  afraid,  left  any  one  ftiould  (hake  your  Regard 
from  thefe  Difcourfes  and  Adions.     See,  it  is  not 
fhaken  by  another ;  but  by  yourfelf     Fight  againft 
yourfelf,  recover  yourfelf  to  Decency,  to  Modefty, 
to  Freedom.     If  you  had  formerly  been  told  any 
of  thefe  Things  of  me,  that  any  one  prevailed  on 
me  to  commit  Adultery,  to  wear  fuch  a  Drefs  as 
yours,  to  be  perfumed,  would  not  you  have  gone 
and  laid  violent  Hands  on  the  Man,  who  thus  a- 
bufed  me  ?      And  will  you   not  now  then  help 
yourfelf?     For  how  much  eafier  is  that  Afliftance  ? 
You  need  not  kill,  or  fetter,  or  affront,  or  go  to 
Law  with  any  one  ;  but  merely  to  talk  with  your- 
felf, who  will  moft  readily  be  perfuaded  by  you, 
and  with  whom  no  one  hath  greater  Credit  than 
you.     And,  in  the  firft  place,  condemn  your  Ac- 
tions :  but  when  you  have  condemned  them,  do 
not  defpair  of  yourfelf,  nor  be  like  thofe  poor-fpi- 
rited  People,  who  when  they  have  once  given  Way, 
abandon  themfelves  intirely,  and  are  carried  along, 
as  by  a  Torrent.     Take  Example  from  the  wreft- 
ling  M afters.     Hath  the    Boy   fallen  down  .'*     Get 
up  again,  they  fay  ;  wreftle  again,  till  you  have  ac- 
quired   Strength.     Be   you    afFedled   in  the  fame 
Manner.     For,  be  afTured,  that  there  is  nothing 
more  tradable  than  the  human  Mind.     You  need 
but  will,  and  it  is  done,  it  is  fet  right :  as,  on  ttie 
contrary,  you  need  but  nod  over  the  Work,  and 
it  is  ruined.     For  both  Ruin  and  Recovery  are  from 
within. 


§■3. 


g66  The  Discourses  of        Book  IV. 

§.  3.  "And,  after  all,  what  Good  will  this  do 

"  me?" (f)  What  greater  Good  do  you  feek? 

From  impudent,  you  will  become  modell ;  from 
indecent,  decent ;  from  di'Tolute,  fober.  If  you 
feek  any  greater  Things  than  thefe,  go  on  as  you 
do.  It  is  no  longer  in  the  Power  of  any  God  to 
fave  you. 

C  H  A  P  T  E  R    X.      , 

Wtnt  Things  we  are  to  defpife^  and  on  what  to  plact 
a  dijlinguifhed  Value. 

§,  I.  T^  H  E  Doubts  and  Perplexities  of  all  Men 
A  are  concerning  Externals.  What  they 
fhall  do  ?  How  it  may  be }  AVhat  will  be  the 
Event  ?  Whether  this  Thing  may  happen,  or  that  ? 
All  this  is  the  Talk  of  Perlons  engaged  in  Things 
independent  on  Choice.  For  who  fays.  How  fhall 
I  do,  not  to  aflent  to  what  is  faife  .?  How,  not  to 
difient  from  what  is  true  ?  If  any  one  is  of  fuch  a 
good  Difpofition,  as  to  be  anxious  about  thefe 
Things,  I  will  remind  him  :  Why  are  you  anxi- 
ous ?  It  is  in  your  own  Power.  Be  alTured.  Do 
not  rufh  upon  Aflent  before  you  have  applied  the 
natural  Rule.     Again,  if  {a)  he   be  anxious,  for 

fear 

(e)  Epiffetus  here  afl*erts,  that  the  Only  Benefit  of  Reforma- 
tion is,  being  reformed  ;  and  that  they,  who  look  for  any  o- 
ther,  are  incapable  of  being  reformed,  even  by  God  himfelf ; 
and  io  may  go  on,  and  be  as  bad  as  they  pleafe.  Suppofe  a 
Prince  fliould  publilh  a  Proclamation,  that  the  only  Advantage 
of  Loyalty  w^as  being  loyal;  and,  if  any  of  his  Subj  efts  looked 
for  any  other,  he  might  be  a  Rebel  with  mpunity:  what  Ef- 
fect muft  this  have,  compared  with  the  Declaration,  Re^v,  xxii. 
11,12.  He  that  is  uttjujly  let  him  he  unjuft  Jiill:  and  he  that  it 
filthy^  let  him  be  filthy  ftill :  and  he  that  is  righteousy  let  him  ht 
righteous  jiill :  And  bekoldy  1  <:ome  quickly  y  andms^^v^2LxA  isnuith 
Mcy  to  give  to  every  Many  according  as  his  Worksjhall  he, 

{aj  I  read  the  Text,  in  this  Place,  as  Wolfius  appears  by  his 
Traaflation  to  have  done. 


Chap.  lo.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  367 

fear  his  Defire  (hould  be  inefFedual  and  dlfappoin- 
ted,  or  his  Averfion  incurred,  I  will  firfl  kifs  him, 
becaufe,  (lighting  what  others  are  in  a  Flutter  and 
terrified  about,  he  takes  care  of  what  is  his  own  ; 
where  his  very  Being  is :  then  I  will  fay  to  him  j 
If  you  would  not  be  difappomted  of  your  Defires, 
or  incur  your  Averfions,  defire  nothing  that  belongs 
to  others ;  be  averfe  to  nothing  not  in  your  own 
Power ;  otherwife  your  Defire  muft  neceffarily  be 
difappointed,  and  your  Averfion  incurred.  Where 
is  the  Doubt  here  ?  Where  the  room  for,  How 
will  it  be  ?  What  will  be  the  Event  ?  And,  Will 
this  happen^  or  that  ?  Now  is  not  the  Event  inde- 
pendent on  Choice  ? "  Yes." And  doth 

not  the  Eifenceof  Good  and  Evil  confifl  in  what  de- 
pends on  Choice  ? "  Yes," It  is  in  your 

Power  then,  to  treat  every  Event  conformably  to 

Nature  ?      Can  any  one  reftrain  you  ?- "  No 

''  one." Then   do   not  fay  to  me  any   more. 

How  will  it  be  ?  For,  however  it  be,  you  will  fet 
it  right,  and  the  Event  to  you  will  be  lucky. 

§.  2.  Pray  what  would  Hercules  have  been,  if  he 
had  faid,  ''  What  can  be  done  to  prevent  a  great 
**  Lion,  or  a  great  Boar,  or  favage  Men,  from 
•'coming  in  my  Way  ?"  Why,  what  is  that  to  you  ? 
If  a  great  Boar  fhould  come  in  your  Way,  you  will 
fight  the  greater  Combat:  if  wicked  Men,  you 
will  deliver  the  World  from  wicked  Men. — "  But 

"  then  if  I  fhould  die  by  this  Means  ?" You 

will  die  a  good  Man,  in  the  Performance  of  a  gallant 
A(5tion.  For  fince,  at  all  Events,  one  rnufl:  die, 
one  mud  neceffarily  be  found  doing  fomething,  ei- 
ther tilling,  or  digging,  or  trading,  or  ferving  a 
Confulfhip,  or  fick  of  an  Indigeftion,  or  a  Flux. 
At  what  Employment  then  would  you  have  Death 
find  you  ?  For  my  Part  I  would  have  it  be  fome 
humane,  beneficent,  public  fpirited,  gallant  Adion. 
But  if  I  cannot  be  found  doing  any  fuch  great 
Things,  yet,  at  leafl,  I  would  be  doing  what  1  am 

incapable 


368  ne  Discourses    of       Book  IV, 

incapable  of  being  reflrained  from,  what  is  given 
me  to  do,  correding  myfelf,  improving  that  Fa- 
culty which  makes  life  of  the  Appearances  of 
Things,  to  procure  Tranquillity,  and  render  to  the 
feveral  Relations  of  Life  their  Due ;  and,  if  I  am 
fo  fortunate,  advancing  to  the  third  Topic,  a  Se-^ 
curity  of  judging  right  if  Death  overtakes  me  in 
fuch  a  Situation,  it  is  enough  for  me,  if  I  can  flretch 
out  my  Hands  to  God,  and  fay,  ''  The  Opportu- 
"  nities  which  Thou  haft  given  me,  of  compre- 
"  bending  and  following  [the  Rules]  of  thy  Admi- 
"  niftration,  I  have  not  negleded.  As  far  as  in  me 
*'  lay,  I  have  not  difhonoured  Thee.  See  how  I 
*'  have  ufed  my  Perceptions  ♦,  how,^  my  Pre  con- 
*'  ceptions.  Have  I  at  any  time  found  fault  with 
''  Thee  ?  Have  I  been  difcontentcd  at  Thy  Difpen- 
*'  fations  ;  or  wifhed  them  otherwife  ?  Have  I 
"  tranfgrefled  the  Relations  of  Life  ?  I  thank 
''  Thee,  that  Thou  haft:  brought  me  into  Being.  I 
*'  am  fatisfied  with  the  Time  that  I  have  enjoyed 
*'  the  Things,  which  Thou  haft  given  me.  Receive 
"  them  back  again,  and  alTign  them  to  whatever 
'*  Place  Thou  wilt  i  for  they  were  {b)  all  Thine,  and 
>'  Thou  gaveft  them  to  me  (c)** 

§.3.  Is  it  not  enough  to  make  one's  Exit  in  this 
State  of  Mind. ^  And  what  Life  is  better,  and  more 
becoming  than  that  of  fuch  a  one  ?    Or  what  Con- 

clufion 

[h)  Thine  theynvere^  and  Thou  gaveji  them  me:     John  xvli.  6. 

(f)  I  wifti  it  were  pofTible  to  palliate  the  Oftentation  of  this 
PaiFage,  by  applying  it  to  the  ideal  perfeft  Charader:  but  it  is 
in  a  general  Way,  that  EpiSietus  hath  propofed  fuch  a  dying 
Speech,  as  cannot,  without  (hocking  Arrogance,  be  uttered  by 
any  one  born  to  die.  Unmixt  as  it  is  with  any  Acknowledge- 
ment of  Faults  or  Imperfections  at  prefent,  or  with  any  Senfe 
of  Guilt  on  Account  of  the  part,  it  muft  give  every  fober  Rea- 
der a  very  difadvantageous  Opinion  of  fome  Principles  of  the 
Philofophy,  on  which  it  is  founded,  as  contradidtory  to  the 
Voice  of  Confcience,  and  formed  on  abfolute  Ignorance,  or 
NeglevSt,  of  the  Condition  and  Circumftances  of  fuch  a  Crea- 
ture as  Man. 


Chap.  lo.      E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  369 

clufion  happier  ?  But,  in  order  to  attain  thefe  Ad- 
vantages, there  are  no  inconfiderable  Things,  both 
to  be  taken  and  loll.  You  cannot  wifh  both  for  a 
Confulfhip  and  thefe  too,  nor  take  Pains  to  get  an 
Eftate  and  thefe  too,  or  be  folicitous  both  about 
your  Servants  and  yourfelf.  But,  (d)  if  you  wifh 
any  thing  abfolutely,  of  what  belongs  to  others, 
vyhat  is  your  own  is  loft.  This  is  the  Nature  of  the 
Affair.  Nothing  is  to  be  had  for  nothing.  And 
where  is  the  Wonder  ?  If  you  would  be  Conful^ 
you  mud  watch,  run  about,  kifs  Hands,  be  wea- 
ried down  with  waiting  at  the  Doors  of  others,  mufl 
fay  and  do  many  flavifh  Things,  fend  Gifts  to 
many,  daily  Prefents  to  fome.  And  what  is  the 
Conlequence  [of  Succefs].^  Twelve  Bundles  of 
Rods  (e) ;  to  fit  three  or  four  times  on  the  Tribu- 
nal ;  to  give  the  Circenjian  Games,  and  Suppers  {/) 
in  Bafkets  to  all  the  World :  or  let  any  one  fhow 
me  what  there  is  in  it  more  than  this.  Will  you 
then  be  at  no  Expence,  no  Pains  to  acquire  Apa- 
thy, Tranquillity,  to  fleep  found  while  you  do 
fleep,  to  be  thoroughly  awake  while  you  are  awake, 
to  fear  nothing,  to  be  anxious  for  nothing  .?  But, 
if  any  thing  belonging  to  you  be  loll,  or  idly  waft- 
ed, while  you  are  thus  engaged,  or  another  gets 
v/hat  you  ought  to  have  had,  will  you  immediately 
begin  fretting  at  what  hath  happened  ?  Will  you 
not  compare  the  Exchange  you  have  made  .<*  How 
much  for  how  much  ?  But  you  would  have  fuch 
great  Things  for  nothing,  I  fuppofe.  And  how 
can  you  ?  One  Bufinefs  doth  not  fuit  with  another  t 
you  cannot  beftow  your  Care  both  upon  Externals 
and  your  own  ruling  Faculty  (^).  But,  If  yoa 
would  have  the  former,  let  the  latter  alone ;  or 
you  will  fucceed  in  neither,  while  you  are  drawn 
B  b  different 

\(f)  See  Enchiridion,  C.  xiii. 
{e)  The  Enfigns  of  the  Confuiar  Office. 
(/)  Thefe  were  diftributed  by  the  great  Men  in  Ro^e  to  theiij 
Clients,  as  a  Reward  for  their  Attendance. 

(^J  T^  (arinQt/fripe  Gfid  and  M^mmon^     Matth  tI  24, 


1370  TX'i?  Di  SCO  u  RSEs  ^/        Book  IV. 

different  Ways,  towards  both.  On  the  other  hand, 
if  you  would  have  the  latter,  let  the  former  alone. 
— — "  The  Oil  will  be  fpilled,  the  Furniture  will 
*'  be   fpoiled  :"— but  ftill  I  fhall  be  free  from 

PafTion. "  There  will  be  a  Fire  when  I  am  not 

"  in  the  Way,  and  the  Books  will  be  deflroyed  :" 

• but  ftill  1   fhall  treat  the   Appearances  of 

Things  conformably   to  Nature. *'  But  I  fhall 

**  have  nothing  to  eat/* If  I  am  fo  unlucky, 

dying  is  a  fafe  Harbour.  That  is  the  Harbour  for 
all,  Death  :  that  is  the  Refuge  ;  and,  for  that  Rea- 
fon,  there  is  nothing  difficult  in  Life.  You  may  go 
out  of  Doors  when  you  pleafe,  and  be  troubled 
with  Smoke  no  longer. 

§.  4.  Why  then  are  you  anxious  ?  Why  do  you 
keep  yourfelf  waking  ?  Why  do  not  you  calculate 
where  your  Good  and  Evil  lies  :  and  fay,  they  arc 
"both  in  my  own  Power ;  neither  can  any  deprive 
me  of  the  one,  or  involve  me,  againfl  my  Will, 
in  the  other.  Why  then  do  not  I  lay  myfelf  down 
andfnore?  What  is  my  own,  is  fafe.  Let  what 
belongs  to  others  look  to  itfelf,  who  carries  it  off, 
how  it  is  given  away  by  Him,  that  hath  the  Dif- 
pofal  of  it.  Who  am  I,  to  will,  that  it  fhould  be 
lb  and  fb  ?  For  is  the  Option  given  to  me  ?  Hath 
any  one  made  Me  the  Difpenfer  of  it  ?  What  I 
have  in  my  own  Difpofal  is  enough  for  me.  I  mufl 
make  the  bed  I  can  of  this.  Other  Things  mufl 
be  as  the  Maflcr  of  them  pleafes. 

§.5.  Doth  any  one,  who  hath  thefe  Things  be- 
fore '  his  Eyes,  lie  awake  [like  Jcbiiles^]  and  fhift 
from  Side  to  Side  ?  What  would  he  have,  or  what 
doth  he  want  ?  Patroclus,  or  Antilochus  (g)^  or 
Menelaiis  ?  Why,  did  he  ever  think  any  one  of 
his  Friends  immortal  }  Why,  when  had  not  he  i( 
before  his  Eyes,  that   the  Morrow,  or  the  next 

Day, 

{g)  Antilochus  and  Menelaus  are  not  mentioned!,  or  referred  to, 
in  the  Palfage  of  Homers  to  which  Epi£ietus  alludes. 


Chap.io.      E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  371 

Day,  himfelf,  or  that  Friend,  might  die  ? 

*'  Ay,  very  true,  fays  he  :  but  (i')  I  reckoned,  that 

"  he  would  furvive  me,  and  bring  up  my  Son." 

Becaufe  you  were  a  Fool,  and  reckoned  upon 

(0  Uncertainties.     Why  then  do  you  blame  your- 

felf ;  but  fit  crying,  like  a  Girl  ^ "  But  he  ufed 

*'  to  (k)  fet  my  Dinner  before  me." Becaufe  he 

was  alive,  Fool  -,  but  now  he  cannot.  But  //«/<?- 
medon  will  fet  it  before  you  ;  and,  if  he  fhould  die, 
you  will  find  fomebody  elfe.  What  if  the  Pipkin, 
in  which  your  Meat  ufed  to  be  cooked,  Ihould 
happen  to  be  broken  ;  muft  you  die  with  Hunger, 
becaufe  you  have  not  your  old  Pipkin  (/)  ?  Do  not 
you  fend  and  buy  a  new  one .? 

JVkit  greater  Evil  (fays  he)  could  ofli5f  my  Br e aft  f 

Is  this  your  Evil  then  ^  And,  inflead  of  removing 
k,  do  you  accufe  your  Mother,  that  fhe  did  not 
foretell  it  to  you,  that  you  might  have  fpent  your 
whole  Life  in  grieving  from  that  Time  forward  ^ 

§.  6.  Do  not  you  think  now,  that  Homer  com- 
pofed  all  this  on  Purpofe  to  fhow  us,  that  the  no- 
bled,  the  ftrongeft,  the  richeft,  the  handfomeft  of 
Men,  may,  neverthelefs,  be  the  moll  unfortunate 
and  wretched,  if  they  have  not  the  Principles  they 
ought  to  have  ? 

{h)  A^»A<»  w»,  perhaps,  fhould  be  a5"»)Aa  SVjXa  «». 

(i)     J  hop' d  Fatrodus  mig^t/ur'vi've,  to  rear 

My  tender  Orphan^  'vith  a  Paretit's  Care.  PoPE. 

(i)     Thou  toOi  Patroclus,  (thus  his  Heart  he  njents) 

Haft fpread th'  ir.'viting  Banquet  in  our  lents.        Pope. 

(/)  This  is  a  wretched  Idea  o\  Friendlhip ;  but  a  neceirary 
Confequence  of  the  Stoic  Syftem.  What  a  fine  Contiall  to 
this  gloomy  Confolation  are  the  noble  Sentiments  of  an  Apoftle! 
Value  your  deceafed  Friend,  fays  EpiStetusy  as  a  broken  Pip- 
kin ;  forget  him,  as  a  Thing  worthlefs,  loft,  and  deftroyed.  St. 
Paul,  on  the  contrary,  comforts  the  mourning  Survivors  j  bid- 
ding them,  notforro^JOy  as  thofe  nvho  have  no  Hope:  but  remem- 
ber, that  the  Death  of  good  Perfons  is  only  a  Sleep ;  from 
which  they  ihall  foon  arife  to  a  happy  Immortality. 

Bba  CHAP- 


372  ne  Di&covKShs  of        Book  IV. 

CHAPTER    XL 

Of  Purity  and  Cleanlinefs, 

§.  I .  Q  O  M  E  doabt  whether  Sociablenefs  he 
i3  comprehended  in  the  Nature  of  Man ; 
and  yet  thefe  very  Perfons  do  not  feem  to  me  to 
doubt,  but  that  Purity  is  by  all  means  comprehended 
in  it ;  and  that  by  this,  if  by  any  thing,  it  is  diflin- 
guilhed  from  brute  Animals.  When  therefore  we 
tee  any  Animal  cleaning  itfelf,  we  are  apt  to  cry^ 
with  Wonder,  It  is  like  a  human  Creature.  On 
the  contrary,  if  an  Animal  is  accufed  [of  Dirtinefs]^ 
we  are  prefently  apt  to  fay,  by  way  of  Excufe, 
that  it  is  not  a  human  Creature.  Such  Excellence 
do  we  fuppofe  to  be  in  Man,  which  we  firfl:  re- 
ceived from  the  Gods.  For,  as  they  are  by  Na- 
ture pure  and  uncorrupt,  in  proportion  as  Men 
approach  to  them  by  Realbn,  they  are  tenacious 
of  Purity  and  Incorruption.  But,  fince  it  is  im- 
pradicable  that  their  Effence,  compofed  of  fuch 
Materials,  fhouid  be  abfolutely  pure,  it  is  the 
Office  of  Reafon  to  endeavour  to  render  it  as  pure 
aspolhble. 

§.2.  The  firfl  and  highefl  Purity,  or  Impurity^ 
then,  is  that  which  is  formed  in  the  Soul  But 
you  v/ili  not  find  the  Impurity  of  the  Soul  and 
iiody  to  be  alike.  For  what  elfe  [of  Impurity] 
can  jou  find  in  the  Soul,  than  that  which  renders 
it  filthy  with  regard  to  its  Operations  ?  Now  the 
Operations  of  the  Soul  are  its  Purfuits  and  Avoid- 
ances, its  Defires,  Averfions,  Preparations,  Inten- 
tions, AiTents.  What  then  is  that  which  renders 
it  defiled  and  impure  in  thefe  Operations  ?  Nothing 
clfe  than  its  perverfe  Judgments.  So  that  the 
Impurity  of  the  Soul  conlifls  in  wicked  Princi- 
ples;   and  its  Purification  in    the  forming  right 

Pria- 


Chap.  II.       EPICTETUS.  3^^ 

Principles  ;  and  that  is  pure  which  hath  right  Prin- 
ciples ;  for  that  alone  is  unmixed  and  undefiied  in 
its  Operations. 

§.  3.  Now  v/e  (hould,  as  far  as  poflible,  endea- 
vour after  ibinething  like  this  in  the  Body  too.  It 
3S  impoflible  but,  in  fuch  a  Compofition  as  Man, 
there  mufl:  be  a  Defluxion  of  Rheum.  For  this 
Reafon,  Nature  hath  made  Hands,  and  the  Nol- 
trils  themfelves  as  Channels  to  let  out  the  Moiflure. 
If  any  one  therefore  fnuffs  it  up  again,  1  fay,  that 
he  performs  not  the  Operation  of  a  Man.  It  was 
impolTible,  but  that  the  Feet  muft  be  bemired  and 
foiled  from  what  they  pafs  through.  Therefore 
Nature  hath  prepared  Water  and  Hands.  It  was 
ampodible,  but  that  fome  Fikh  mud  clearve  to  the 
Teeth  from  Eating.  Therefore,  (he  fays,  wa-fh 
your  Teeth.  Why  ?  That  you  may  be  a  Man, 
and  not  a  wild  Bead,  or  a  Swine.  It  was  impoili- 
ble,  but,  from  Perfpiration,  and  <he  Prefiure  of 
the  Clothes,  fomething  ^irty,  and  neceflary  to  be 
cleaned,  fhould  remain  4apon  the  Body.  For  this, 
there  is  Water,  Oil,  Ha^ids,  Towels,  Brufhes, 
Sope,  and  other  necefiary  Apparatus,  for  its  Puri- 

f^cation. No :  a  Smith  indeed  will  get  the  Rutl 

off  his  Iron,  and  have  proper  hiftruments  for  that 
Purpofe :  and  you  yourfelf  will  have  your  Plates 
wafhed  before  you  eat ;  uniefs  you  are  quite  dirty 
and   (lovenly:  but  you   will   not  walh  nor  purif/ 

your  Body. "  Why  fliould  I .?"    (fay  you.)^ 

1  tell  you  again,  in  the  firft  place,  that  you  may 
be  like  a  Man-,  and,  in  the  next,  that  you  may 
not  offend  thofe  with  whom  you  converfe.  *  *  *  {a) 
Without  being  fenfible  of  it,  you  do  fomething 
like  this.  Do  you  think  you  deferve  to  ilink  ?  Be 
it  fo.  But  do  thofe  deferve  [to  fuffer  by]  it  who 
B  b  3  ^it 

{a)  Something  here  feems  to  be  loft.  Or,  perhapr,  the 
Words,  without  being  fenfible  of  it,  you  do  fmething  like  thtf, 
^^ght  to  b;;  inferted  after,  negUaed  him. 


S74-  ^/^^  D I  s  c  o  u  R  s  E  s  o/         Book  IV. 

fit  near  you  ?  who  are  placed  at  a  Table  with  you  ? 
.Who  falute  you  ?  Either  go  into  a  Defert,  as  you 
deferve,  or  live  folitary  at  Home,  and  fmell  your- 
felf :  for  it  is  fit  you  fhould  enjoy  your  Nafiinefs 
alone.  But,  to  what  Sort  of  Charader  doth  it  be- 
long, to  live  in  a  City,  and  behave  Co  carelefsly  and 
inconfiderately?  If  Nature  had  trufted  even  a 
Horfe  to  your  Care,  would  you  have  overlooked 
and  negleded  him  ?  Now  confider  your  Body  as 
committed  to  you,  inilead  of  a  Horfe.  Wafh  (b) 
it,  rub  it,  take  care  that  it  may  not  be  any  one's 
Ayerfion,  nor  difguft  any  one.  Who  is  not  more 
difgufled  at  a  ilinking,  unwholefome-looking  Slo- 
ven, than  at  a  Perfon  who  hath  been  rolled  in 
Pilth  .?  The  Stench  of  the  one  is  adventitious  from 
without;    but  that  which  arifes  from   Want  of 

Care,  is  a  Kind  of  inward  Putrefadion. "But 

*'  Socrates  bathed  but  feldom." But  his  Perfon 

looked  clean,  and  was  fo  agreeable  and  pleafing, 
that  the  mod  beautiful  and  noble  Youths  were  fond 
of  him,  and  defired  rather  to  fit  by  him,  than  by 
thofe  who  had  the  fined  Perfons.  He  might  have 
omitted  both  Bathing  and  Wafhing,  if  he  had 
pleafed  ;  and  yet  Bathing,  though  feldom,  had  its 

tfiea.' "  But  Jriftopbanes  cdls  him,  one  of  the 

*'  f^uali^  Jlip-jhod  Philofophers:' Why,  fo  he 

fays  too,  that  he  walked  in  the  Air,  and  dole 
Clothes  from  the  PaUftra.  Befides,  all  who  have 
\vnx.x.^v\  oi  Socrates,  affirm  quite  the  contrary  ;  that 
he  was  not  only  agreeable  in  his  Converfation,  but 
in  his  Perfon  too.  And,  again,  they  write  the 
lame  of  Diogenes.  For  we  ought  not  to  fright  the 
World  from  Philofophy,  by  the  Appearance  of  our 

Perfon  ; 

(h)  Here    probably,  fliould  be  added if  you  do  not 

chufe  warm  Warer,  with  cold.     Thefe  Words  in  the  Greek  are 
transferred  to  a  Place,  where  they  are  abfolutelv  unintelh-^ible. 
They  were,  probably,  at   firft,  omitted   by  chance;  then^fup-' 
plied  at   the  Bottom   of  the  Page,  and  then  tranfcnbed,  as  if. 
that  had  been  their  proper  Place. 


Chap.  II.       E  FI  C  T  E  TU  S/  375 

Perfon ;  but  to  Ihow  ourfelvcs  chearful  and  eafy, 
by  the  Care  of  our  Perfons  (c ),  as  well  as  by  other 
Marks.  "  See,  all  of  you,  that  I  have  nothing;' 
*'  that  I  want  nothing.  Without  Houfe,  without 
"  City,  and  an  Exile,  (if  that  happens  to  be  the 
*'  Cafe  {d\)  and  without  a  Home,  I  live  more  ea- 
"  fily  and  profperoufly  than  the  Noble  and  Rich. 
"  Look  upon  my  Perfon  too,  that  it  is  not  injured 

♦'  by  coarfe  Fare/'- But,  if  any  one  (hould 

tell  me  this,  with  the  Habit  and  the  Vifage  of  a 
condemned  Criminal,  what  God  (hould  perfuade 
me  to  come  near  Philofophy,  while  {e)  it  renders 
Men  fuch  Figures  ^  Heaven  forbid !  I  would  not 
do  it,  even  if  I  was  fure  to  become  a  wife  Man  for 
my  Pains.  I  declare,  for  my  own  Part,  I  would 
rather  that  a  young  Man,  on  his  firfl  Inclination  to 
Philofophy,  (hould  come  to  me  finically  drefiTed, 
than  with  his  Hair  fpoiled  and  dirty.  For  there 
appears  in  him  fome  Idea  of  Beauty,  and  Defire  of 
Decency :  and  where  he  imagines  it  to  be,  there 
he  applies  his  Endeavours.  One  hath  nothing  more 
to  do,  but  to  point  it  out  to  him,  and  fay,  "  You 
*'  feek  Beauty,  young  Man  ;  and  you  do  well.  Be 
«  alTured  then,  that  it  fprings  from  the  rational 
i'  Part  of  you.  Seek  it  there,  where  the  Purfuits 
*'  and  Avoidances,  the  Defires  and  Averfions,  are 
*'  concerned.  Herein  confifts  your  Excellence : 
*'  but  the  paultry  Body  is  by  Nature  Clay.  Why 
*'  do  you  trouble  yourfelf,  to  no  Purpofe,  about 
"  it?  You  will  be  convinced  by  Time,  if  not  o- 
«  therwife,  that  it  is  nothing."  But,  if  he  (hould 
come  to  me  bemired,  dirty,  with  Whifl^ers  down 
to  his  Knees,  what  can  I  fay  to  him  ?  By  what  Si- 
B  b  4  militude 

Cc)    In  Times  of  Mourning  or   Danger,  the  Antients   ex- 
prelTed   their    Senfe  of   their    Situation   by   negleding    tli^ir 

Perfons. 

fd)  As  It  v/^s  the  Czk  of  Diogenes. 

{e)  For  c^rE,  perhaps,  iTt  may  be  the  true  Reading ;  and  it  is 
fo  tranflated. 


37^  7?;^  Discourses  0/        Book  IV, 

militude  allure  him  ?  For  what  hath  he  fludied, 
which  hath  any  Refemblance  to  Beauty,  that  I 
may  transfer  his  Attention,  and  fay,  that  Beauty  is 
not  there,  but  here  P  Would  you  have  me  tell 
him,  that  Beauty  doth  not  confift  in  Filth,  but  in 
Reafon  ?  For  hath  he  any  Defire  of  Beauty  ? 
Hath  he  any  Appearance  of  it  ?  Go,  and  argue 
with  a  Hog,  not  to  roll  in  the  Mire. 

§.  4.  It  was  in  the  Quality  of  a  young  Mm  that 
loved  Beauty,  that  Pokmo  (f)  was  touched  by  the 
Difcourfes  of  Xenocraies.  For  he  entered  with 
fome  Incentives  to  the  Study  of  Beauty,  though 
he  fought  in  the  wrong  Place.  And  indeed  Nature 
hath  not  made  the  very  Brutes  dirty,  which  live 
wuh  Man.  Doth  a  Horfe  v/ allow  in  the  Mire? 
Or  a  good  Dog  P  But  Swine,  and  filthy  Geefe,  and 
Worms,  and  Spiders,  which  are  banifhed  to  the 
greateft  Diflance  from  human  Society.  Will  you 
then,  who  are  a  Man,  chufe  not  to  be  even  one 
of  the  Animals,  that  are  converfant  with  Man ; 
but  rather  a  Worm,  or  a  Spider  }  Will  you  not 
bathe  fometimes,  be  it  in  whatever  Manner  you 
pleafe  ?  Will  you  never  ufe  Water  to  wafh  your- 
felf .?  Will  you  not  come  clean,  that  they  who  con- 
yerfe  with  you  may  have  fome  Pleafure  in  you } 
But  will  you  accompany  us,  a  mere  Lump  of  Nafli- 
nefs,  even  to  the  Temples ;  where  it  is  not  law- 
ful for  any  one  fo  much  as  to  fpit,  or  blow  his 
Nofe  ? 

§.  5.  What  then,  would  anybody  have  you  drefs 
yourfelf  out  to  the  utmofl  I  By  no  means";  except 
in  thofe  Things  where  our  Nature  requires  it;  in 
Reaion,  Principles,  Adions  :  but,  in  our  Perfons, 
only  as  far  as  Neatnefs,  as  far  as  not  to  give  Of- 
^nce.  But  if  you  hear,  that  it  is  not  right  to  wear 
Purple,  you    mufl  go,"  I    fuppofe,  and   roll  your 

Cloke  m  the  ^>fud,  or  tear  it. "  But  where 

•  "(houlcj 
{/)  Seep.  1 98.  Note  (c). 


Chap:  12.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  377 

^'  fliould  I  have  a  fine  Cloke  ?" ^You  have  Wa- 

t€r,  Man ;  wafh  it. "  What  an  amiable  (g) 

"  Youth  is  here  ?     How  worthy  this  old  Man,  to 

*'  love,  and   be  loved!" A  fit  Perfon   to  be 

trufled  with  the  Inflrudion  of  our  Sons  and 
Daughters,  and  attended  by  young  People,  as  Oc- 

cafiun  may  require, to  read  them  Lectures  on 

a  Dung-hill!  Every  Deviation  proceeds  from 
lomething  human  :  but  this  approaches  very  nearly 
towards  being  not  human. 

C  H  A  P  T  E  R    Xri. 

Of  Attention, 

§.  I.  \T  7  HEN  you  let  go  your  Attention  for  a 
W  little  while,  do  not  fancy  you  may  re- 
cover it  when-ever  you  pleafe  :  but  remember  this. 
That,  by  means  of  the  Fault  of  To-day,  your  Af- 
fairs muft  necefTarily  be  in  a  worfe  Condition  for 
the  future.  Firll,  what  is  the  faddeft  Thing  of  all, 
a  Habit  ariles  of  not  attending;  and  then  a  Habit 
of  deferring  the  Attention,  and  always  driving  {a) 
off  from  time  to  time,  and  procraftinating  a  profl 
perous  Life,  a  Propriety  of  Behaviour,  and  the 
Thinking  and  Ac\ing  conformably  to  Nature.  Now, 
if  the  Procraflination  of  any  thing  is  advantageous, 
the  abfolute  Omiffion  of  it  is  ftill  more  advantage- 
ous :  but,  if  it  be  not  advantageous,  why  do  not 

you  preferve  a  conftant  Attention  .^ '*  I  would 

"  play  To-day.'* What  then  ?     Ought  you  not 

to  do  it,  with  proper  Attention  to  yourfelf  .^— — 

*"•  I  would  fing." -Well:  and  what  forbids 

but  that  you  may  fing,  with  Attention  to  yourfelf  .^ 

For 

(g)  The  Youth,  probably,  means  the  Scholar,  who  negle^s 
Neatnefs ;  and  the  old  Man,  the  Tutor,  that  gives  him  no  Pre« 
rept  or  Example  of  it. 

{a)  EtwSw,  perhaps,  Ihould  be  wSfirai. 


^7S  ^^^  'Discourses  <?/     Book  IV* 

For  there  is  no  Part  of  Life  exempted,  to  which 
Attention  doth  not  extend.  For  will  you  do  it  the 
worfe  by  attending,  and  the  better  by  not  attend- 
ing ?  What  elfe  in  Life  is  bed  performed  by  inat- 
tentive People  ?  Doth  a  Smith  forge  the  better  by 
not  attending  ?  Doth  a  Pilot  fleer  the  fafer  by  not 
attending  ?  Or  is  any  other,  even  of  the  minuteft 
Operations,  performed  the  better  by  Inattention  ? 
Do  not  you  perceive,  that,  when  you  have  let  your 
Mind  loofe,  it  is  no  longer  in  your  Power  to  call  it 
back,  either  to  Propriety,  or  Modefly,  or  Mode- 
ration ?  But  you  do  every  thing  as  it  happens  : 
you  follow  your  Inclinations. 

§.  2.  To  what  then  am  I  to  attend  ? 

Why,  in  the  firft  Place,  to  thofe  univerfal  Max- 
ims, which  you  mud  always  have  at  hand ;  and 
not  fleep,  or  get  up,  or  drink,  or  eat,  or  converfe 
without  them :  that  no  one  is  the  Mafter  of  ano- 
ther's Choice ;  and  it  is  in  Choice  alone  that  Good 
and  Evil  confifl.  No  one  therefore  is  the  Mafter 
either  to  procure  me  any  Good,  or  to  involve  me 
in  any  Evil :  but  I  alone  have  the  Difpofal  of  my- 
felf,  with  regard  to  thefe  Things.  Since  thefe  then 
are  fecured  to  me,  what  need  have  I  to  be  troubled 
about  Externals  ?  What  Tyrant  is  formidable  s* 
What  Diftemper?  What  Poverty?  What  Of- 
fence ? -"  1  have  not  pleafed  fuch  a  one." 

Is  he  my  Concern  then  ?    Is  he  my  Confcience .»' — 

"  No." Why  do  I  trouble  myfelf  any  further 

about  him  then  P "  But  he  is  thought  to  be  of 

*'  fome  Confequence." Let  him  look  to  that, 

and  they  who  think  him  fo.  But  I  have  One, 
whom  I  muft  pleafe,  to  whom  I  muft  fubmit, 
whom  I  .muft  obey ;  God,  and  thofe  {b)  who  are 
next  Him.     He  hath  entrufted  me  with  myfelf,  and 

made 

[b]  The  tutelar  Genius,  and  Fortune.  Of  the  former,  fee 
B.  I  ch.  14.  §,  2.  Of  both,  fee  B.  IV.  ch.  4.  §.  4.  By  chang- 
ing xeti  TOK  into  xocv  to;,  the  Tranflation  will  be  i  Buty  next  to 
Hinty  He  hath  intrujisd  me  ivith  myfelf. 


Chap.  ii2.       E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  '379 

made  my  Choice  fubjea  to  myfelf  alone,  havino- 
given  me  Rules  for  the  right  Ufe  of  it.  Jf  I  follow 
the  proper  Rules  in  Syllogifms,  in  convertible  Pro- 
pofitions,  1  do  not  regard,  nor  care  for  any  one, 
who  fays  any  thing  contrary  to  them.  Why  then 
am  I  vext  at  being  cenfured  in  Matters  of  greater 
Confcquence  .?  What  is  the  Reafon  of  this  Pertur- 
bation ?  Nothing  elfe,  but  that  in  this  Inftance  I 
want  Exercife.  For  every  Science  defpifes  Igno- 
rance, and  the  Ignorant ;  and  not  only  the  Scien- 
ces, but  even  the  Arts.  Take  any  Shoemaker, 
take  any  Smith  you  will,  and  he  laughs  at  the  refl 
of  the  World,  with  regard  to  his  own  Buhnefs. 

§.  3.  In  tlie  firfl  place  then,  thefe  are  the  Maxims 
we   mufl  have   ready,    and   do  nothing   without 
them  ;  but  dired  the  Soul  to  this  Mark,  to  purliae 
nothing  external,  nothing  that  belongs  to  others, 
but  as  He,  who  hath  the  Power,  hath  appointed  : 
Things  dependent  on  Choice  are  to  be  purfued  al- 
ways ;  and  the  reft,  as  it   is  permitted.     Befides 
this,  we  muft  remember,  who  we  are,  and  what 
Name  we  bear,  and  endeavour  to  direct  the  feveral 
Offices  of  Life  to  the  rightful  Demands  of  its  feve- 
ral Relations:  what   is  the  proper  Time  for  Sing- 
ing, what  for  Play,  in  what  Company :  what  wHl 
be  the  Confequence  of  our  Performance :  whether 
our  Companions  will  defpife    us,  or  we  ourlelves  : 
when  to  employ  Raillery,  and  whom  to  ridicule  : 
upon  what  Occafions  to  comply,  and  with  whom  ; 
and  then,  in  complying,  how  to  preferve  our  own 
Character. 

§.4.  W^here-ever  you  deviate  from  any  of  thefe 
Rules,  the  Damage  is  immediate;  not  from  any 
thing  external,  but  from  the  very  Adion  itfelf-^ 
*^'  What  then,  is  it  poffible,  by  thefe  Means,  to  be 
"  faultlefs!"  Impracticable:  but  this  is  poiiible, 
to  ufe  a  conftant  Endeavour  to  be  faultlefs.  For 
we  fhall  have  Caufe  to  be  fatisfied,  if,  by  never  re- 
mitting this  Attention,  we  fhali  be  exempt  at  lead 
"      -  frora 


3So  The  Discourses    of       Book  IV. 

from  a  few  Faults.  But  now,  when  you  fay,  I  will 
begin  to  attend  To-morrow  ;  be  affured,  it  is  tlie 
fame  Thing  as  if  you  fay,  ''  I  will  be  fhamelefs, 
"  impertinent,  bale.  To-day :  it  fhall  be  in  the 
*'  Power  of  others  to  grieve  me :  I  will  be  pallionate, 
*'  I  will  be  envious  To-day."    See  to  how  many 

Evils  you  give  yourfelf  up. "  But  all  will  be 

''  well  To-morrow." How  much  better  To- 
day ?  If  it  be  for  your  Interefl  To  morrow,  much 
more  To-day,  that  it  may  be  in  your  Power  To- 
morrow too,  and  that  you  may  not  defer  it  again  to 
the  third  Day. 

CHAPTER    XIII. 

Concerning  Such  as  readily  difcover  their  own  Affairs. 

§.  I.  VTTHEN  any  one  appears  to  us  to  dif- 
W  courfe  frankly  of  nis  own  Affairs,  we 
too  are  fome  Way  induced  to  difcover  our  Secrets 
to  him;  and  we  fuppofe  this  to  be  ading  with 
Franknefs.  Firft,  becaufe  it  feems  unfair,  that, 
when  we  have  heard  the  Affairs  of  our  Neighbour, 
we  fhouid  not,  in  return,  communicate  ours  to 
him;  and,  befides,  we  think,  that  we  fhall  not  ap- 
pear of  a  frank  Character  in  concealing  what  be- 
longs to  ourfelves.  Indeed  it  is  often  faid,  "  I  have 
*'  told  you  all  my  Affairs ;  and  will  you  tell  me 
*'  none  of  yours?  Where  do  People  ad  thus?'* 
Laflly,  it  is  fuppofcd,  that  we  may  fafely  trufl  him 
who  hath  already  trufled  us:  for  we  imagine,  that 
he  will  never  difcover  our  Affairs,  for  fear  we,  in 
our  Turn,  fhouid  difcover  his.  It  is  thus  that  the 
Inconfiderate  are  caught  by  the  Soldiers  at  Rome. 
A  Soldier  fits  by  you,  in  a  common  Drefs,  and  be- 
gins to  fpeak  ill  of  C<efar.  Then  you,  as  if  you  had 
received  a  Pledge  of  his  Fidelity,  by  his  firfl  begin- 
ning the  Abufe,  fay  likewife  what  you  think  ;  and 
fo  you  are  led  away  in  Chains  to  Execution. 

§•  2. 


Chap.  13.         E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  381 

§.  2.  Something  like  this  is  the  Cafe  with  us  in 
general.  But  when  one  hath  fafely  intrufled  his 
Secrets  to  me,  fhall  I,  in  Imitation  of  him,  trull 
mine  to  any  one  who  comes  in  my  Way  ?  The 
Cafe  is  different.  I  indeed  hold  my  Tongue,  (fup- 
pofing  me  to  be  of  fuch  a  Difpofition)  but  he  goes, 
and  difcovers  them  to  every  body  :  and  then,  when 
I  come  to  find  it  out,  if  1  happen  to  be  like  him, 
from  a  Defire  of  Revenge,  I  difcover  his  -,  and.  af- 
perfe,  and  am  afperfed.  But,  if  I  remember,  that 
one  Man  doth  not  hurt  another,  but  that  every  one 
is  hurt  and  profited  by  his  own  Adions,  I  indeed 
keep  to  this,  not  to  do  any  thing  like  him :  yet, 
by  my  own  talkative  Folly,  I  fuf!er  what  I  do  fuf- 
fer. 

§.  3.  ^'  Ay:    but  it  is  unfair,  when  you  have 
*'  heard  the  Secrets  of  your  Neighbour,  not  to  com- 

"  municate  any  thing  to  him,  in  return." -Why, 

did  I  a(k  you  to  do  it.  Sir  ?  Did  you  tell  me  your 
Affairs,  upon  Condition  that  I  fhould  tell  you  mine, 
in  return  .?  If  you  are  a  Blab,  and  believe  all  you 
meet  to  be  Friends,  would  you  have  me  too  become 
like  you  ?  But,  what  if  the  Cafe  be  this  :  that  you 
did  right  in  truHing  your  Affairs  to  me^  but  it  is  not 
right  that  I  fhould  trufl  you  ?  Would  you  have 
me  run  headlong,  and  fall .?  Thisisjufl  as  if  I  had 
a  found  Barrel,  and  you  a  leaky  one:  and  you 
fhould  come  and  depolite  your  Wine  with  me  to 
put  it  into  my  Barrel ;  and  then  Ihould  take  it  ill, 
that,  in  my  Turn,  I  did  not  trufl  you  with  my 
Wine.  No.  You  have  a  leaky  Barrel.  How  then 
are  we  any  longer  upon  equal  Term.s  ?  You  have 
depofited  your  Affairs  with  an  honefl  Man,  and  a 
Man  of  Honour  ;  one  who  efleems  his  own  Adi- 
ons  alone,  and  nothing  external,  to  be  either  hurt- 
ful or  profitable.  Would  you  have  me  depofite 
mine  with  you  ;  a  Man  who  have  difhonoured  your 
own  Faculty  of  Choice,  and  who  would  get  a  paul- 
try   Sum,  or  a  Pod  of  Power  or  Preferment  at 

Courc, 


38a  The  Discourses  of       Book  IV 

Court,  even  if,  for  the  Sake  of  it,  you  were  to  kill 
your  own  Children,  like  Medea  ?  Where  is  the 
Equality  of  this?  But  fliow  me,  that  you  are 
faithful ;  a  Man  of  Honour,  fteady ;  fhow  me,  that 
you  have  friendly  Principles;  fhow  me,  that 
your  VefTel  is  not  leaky ;  and  you  fliall  fee,  that  I 
will  not  ftay  till  you  have  trufted  your  Affairs  to 
me ;  but  I  will  come  and  intreat  you  to  hear  an 
Account  of  mine.  For  who  would  not  make  ufe  of 
a  good  VefTel  ?  Who  defpifes  a  benevolent  and 
friendly  Advifer  ?  W^ho  will  not  gladly  receive  one 
to  fhare  the  Burden,  as  it  were,  of  his  Difficulties ; 

and,  by  fharing,  to  make  it  lighter  ? "  Well : 

"  but  I  trult;;o»,  and  you  do  not  truflw^." 

In  the  firfl  place,  you  do  not  really  truft  me  -,  but 
you  are  a  Blab,  and  therefore  can  keep  nothing  in. 
For,  if  the  former  be  the  Cafe,  truft  only  me.  But 
now,  whomever  you  fee  at  leifure,  you  fit  down  by 
him,  and  fay,  "  My  dear  Friend,  there  is  not  a 
*'  Man  in  the  World  that  wifhes  me  better,  or  hath 
*^  more  Kindnefs  for  me,  than  you ;  1  intreat  you 
*'  to  hear  my  Affairs."  And  this  you  do  to  thofe, 
with  whom  you  have  not  the  leafl  Acquaintance. 
But,  if  you  do  [really]  truft  me,  it  is  plainly  as 
[thinking  me]  a  Man  of  Fidelity  and  Honour;  and 
not  bccaufe  I  have  told  you  my  Affairs.  Let  me 
alone  then,  till  I  too  am  of  this  Opinion  [with  re- 
gard to  You  ].  Show  me,  that,  if  a  Perfbn  hath 
told  his  Affairs  to  any  one,  it  is  a  Proof  of  his  being 
a  Man  of  Fidelity  and  Honour,  For,  if  this  was 
the  Cafe,  I  would  go  about  and  tell  my  Affairs  to 
the  whole  World ;  if,  upon  that  Account,  I  ftiould 
become  a  Man  of  Fidelity  and  Honour.  But  that 
is  no  fuch  Matter ;  but  requires  a  Perfon  to  have  no 
ordinary  Principles. 

§.4.  If  then  you  fee  any  one  taking  Pains  for 
Things  that  belong  to  others,  and  fubjeding  his 
Choice  to  them,  be  affured,  that  this  Man  hath  a 
thoufand  Things  to  compell  and  reftrain  him.    He 

hath 


Chap.  13.        E  P  I  C  T  E  T  U  S.  383 

hath  no  Need  of  burning  Pitch,  or  the  torturing 
Wheel,  to  make  him  tell  what  he  knows ;  but  the 
Nod  of  a  Girl,  for  Inflance,  will  (hake  his  Pur- 
pofe  ;  the  Good-will  of  a  Courtier,  the  Defire  of  a 
public  Poft,  of  an  Inheritance  ;  ten  thoufand  other 
Things  of  that  Sort.  It  mufl  therefore  beremem« 
bered  in  general,  that  fecret  Difcourfes  require  Fi- 
delity, and  a  certain  Sort  of  Principles.  And  where 
at  this  Time,  are  thefe  eafily  to  be  found  ?  Pray 
let  any  one  fliow  me  a  Perfon  of  fuch  a  Difpofition 
as  to  fay,  I  trouble  myfelf  only  with  thofe  Things 
which  are  my  own,  incapable  of  Reftraint,  by  Na- 
ture free.  This  I  efteem  the  EfTence  of  Good.  Let 
the  reft  be  as  it  may  happen.  It  makes  no  Diffe- 
rence to  me. 


E  N  i>  of  the  Discourses. 


THE 


ENCHIRIDION, 

O  R 

MANUAL, 

O  F 

E  P  I  CT  ETUS. 


C  c 


THE 


ENCHIRIDION, 


I. 


F  Things,  Tome  are  in  our  Power, 
and  others  not.  In  our  Power  are 
Opinion,  Purfuit,  Defire,  Averfion, 
and  in  one  Word,  whatever  are  our 
own  Adions.  Not  in  our  Power, 
are  Bcdy,  Property,  Reputation, 
Comnnand,  and,  in  one  Word,  whatever  are  not 
our  own  Adions. 

Nov/,  the  Things  in  our  Power  are,  by  Nature, 
free,  unreftrained,  unhindered  :  But  thofe  not  in 
our  Power,  weak,  flavifh,  reftrained,  belonging  to 
others.  Remember  then,  that,  if  you  luppofe 
Things  by  Nature  flavifh,  to  be  free;  and  what 
belongs  to  others,  your  own  ;  you  will  be  hindered  \ 
you  will  lament ;  you  will  be  difturbed  ;  you  will 
find  fault  both  with  Gods  and  Men.  But,  if  you 
fuppofe,  that  only  to  be  your  own,  which  is  your 
owui  and  what  belongs  to  others,  fuch  as  it  really 
is ;  no  one  will  ever  compell  you  ;  no  one  will  re- 
ftrain  you  :  you  will  find  fault  with  no  one  •,  you 
will  accufe  no  one,  you  will  do  no  one  Thing  againfl 
C  c  2  your 


5^8  ^he  E  N  c  H  I R  I  D I  on, 

your  Will :  no  one  will  hurt  you;  you  will  not  have 
an  Enemy ;  for  you  will  fuffer  no  Harm. 

Aiming  therefore  at  fuch  great  Thin^,  remem^ 
ber,  that  you  muft  not  allow  yourfelf  to  be  carried, 
even  with  a  flight  Tendency,  towards  the  Attain- 
ment of  the  others  {a)  :  but  that  you  muft  entirely 
quit  fome  of  them,  and  for  the  prefent  poftpone 
the  reft.  But,  if  you  wotrfd  both  have  thefe,  and 
Command,  and  Riches,  at  once,  perhaps  you  will 
not  gain  fo  much  as-  the  latter ;  because  you  aim 
at  the  former  too :  bm  you  will  abfoktely  fail  of  the 
former ;  by  which  alone  Happineis  and  Freedom 
are  procu-red. 

Study,  thereforcy  to  be  able  to  lay  to  every  harfh 
Appearance,  "  You  ^e  but  an  Appearance,  and 
**  not  abfolutely  the  Thing  you  appear  to  be." 
And  then  examine  it  by  thofe  Rules  which  you  have : 
and  firft,  and  chiefly,  by  this :  Whether  it  concerns 
the  Things  which  are  in  our  own  Power,  or  thofe 
which  are  not  v  and,  if  it  concerns  any  thing  not 
in  ourPower^  be  prepared  to  fay,  that  it  is  nothing 
to  you. 

II. 

Remember  that  De^re  promlfe&the  Attainment 
of  that  of  which  you  are  defirous ;  and  Averfion 
promifes  the  Avoiding  of  that  to  which  you  are 
averfe  :  that  he  who  fails  of  the  Object  of  his  Do- 
fire,  is  difappointed :  and  he  who  incurs  the  Ob- 
jedt  of  his  Averfion,  wretched,  if  then^  you  con^ 
fine  your  Averfioa  to  thofe  Objeds  only,  which  arc 
contrary  to  that  natural  Ufe  of  your  Facultiei^ 
which  you  have  in  your  own  Power,  you  will  never 
incur  any  thing  to  which  you  are  averfe.  But  if 
you  are  averfe  to  Sicknefs,,  or  Death,  or  Poverty ^ 
you  will  be  wretched.     Remove  Averlion,  then, 

from. 


Co)  TFie  TrandatloQ    folFows   Mr.  Vptans  Conjeaure,  of 
aX^m  for  ax^Tuv, 


The  Enchiridion.  389 

from  all  Things  that  are  not  in  our  Power,  and 
transfer  it  to  Things  contrary  to  the  Nature  of  what 
is  in  our  Power.  But,  for  tlie  prefeut,  totally  lup- 
prefs  Defire :  for,  if  you  defire  any  of  the  Things 
not  in  our  own  Power,  you  muii  neceffarily  be  di{^ 
appointed ;  and  of  thofe  wfakla  are,  and  which  it 
would  be  laudable  to  defire,  nothing  is  yet  in  your 
PofTeilion.  (^)  Ufe  only  [the  requifite  Ads]  of 
Purfuit  and  Avoidance;  and  even  thele  lightly,  and 
with  Gentlenefs,  and  Refervaiion. 

III. 

With  regard  to  whatever  Oi^'eds  either  delight 
.the  Mind,  or  contribute  to  Ufe,  or  are  loved  with 
fond  AfFedlion,  remember  to  tell  you rfelf,  of  what 
Nature  they  are,  beginning  from  the  mod  trifling 
Things,  If  you  are  fond  of  ^n  Earthen  Cup,  that 
it  is  an  Earthen  Cup  c£  which  you  are  fond  :  for 
thus,  if  it  is  broken,  you  will  not  be  difturbed.  If 
you  kifs  your  Child,  or  your  Wife^  that  you  kifs  a 
Eeing  fubj.e6t  to  the  Accidents  of  Humanity  ;  and 
thus  you  will  not  be  difturbed,  if  either  of  them 
dies. 

IV. 

When  you  are  going  about  any  Aclion,  rem^'nd 
yourfelf  of  what  Nature  the  Adion  k.  If  you  are 
g(jing  to  bathe,  reprefent  to  yourfelf  the  Things, 
which  ufually  happen  in  the  Bath  :  fome  Perfons 
dafhing  the  Water  ;  (bme  pufhing  and  crowding  » 
others  giving  abufive  Language  -,  and  others  Heal- 
ing [the  Clothes].  And  thus  you  will  more  fafely 
go  about  this  Adion,  if  you  fay  to  yourfelf,  *'  I 
*'  will  .now  go  bathe,  and  prelerve  my  own  Mind  in 
C  c  3  "a  State 

(J>)  The  Scnfe  Is,  that  he,  who  is  only  beginning  to  phi  1 0- 
^phife,  hath  yet  nothing  right  within  him  to  defire,  or  fet  his 
Heart  upon  ;  therefore,  till  he  hath,  he  n>urt  not  fet  his  Heart 
upon  anything.  But  in  the  mean  time,  he  muft  make  ufe  of 
the  Purfuits  and  A'voidances  ;  /.  e.  perform  the  common  Actions 
of  Life  :  but  thefe  outward  Movements  muft  be  cautious  and 
gentle  i  and  the  inward  Movements  of  Defire  be  quite  reftrained. 


590  ^he  Enchiridion. 

*'  a  State  conformable  to  Nature."  And  in  the 
fame  manner  with  regard  to  every  other  Adlion. 
For  thus,  if  any  Impediment  arifes  in  Bathing, 
you  will  have  it  ready  to  fay,  "  It  was  not  only  to 
♦'  bathe  that  1  defued,  but  to  preferve  my  Mind  in  a 
*'  State  conformable  to  Nature  ;  and  I  fhall  not 
*'  preferve  it  fo,  if  1  am  out  of  Humour  at  Things 
*'  that  happen" 

Men  are  difhurbed,  not  by  Things,  but  by  the 
Principles  and  Notions,  which  they  form  concern- 
ing Things.  Death,  for  Inflance,  is  not  terrible, 
elfe  it  would  have  appeared  fo  to  Socrates,  But  the 
Terror  confifts  in  our  Notion  of  Death,  that  it  is 
terrible.  When  therefore  we  are  hindered,  or  di- 
fturbed,  or  grieved,  let  us  never  impute  it  toothers, 
but  to  ourfelves  ^  that  is,  to  our  own  Principles. 
It  is  the  Adion  of  an  uninflrudled  Perfon  to  lay 
the  Fault  of  his  own  bad  Condition  upon  others  ;  of 
one  entering  upon  Inflrudion,  to  lay  the  Fault  on 
himfelf  ^  and  of  one  perfectly  inftru^^ed,  neither 
on  others,  nor  on  himfelf. 

VI. 

Be  not  elated  on  any  Excellence  not  your  own. 
If  a  Horfe  fhould  be  elated,  and  fay,  "  I  am  hand- 
*'  fome,"  it  would  be  fupportable.  But  when  you 
are  elated,  and  fay,  '^  1  have  a  handfome  Horf**," 
know,  that  you  are  elated  on  what  is,  in  fa6l,  only 
the  Good  of  the  Horfe.  (c)  What  then  is  your 
own  .?  The  Ufe  of  the  Appearances  of  Things. 
So  that  when  you  behave  conformably  to  Nature,  in 
the  Ufe  of  thefe  Appearances,  you  will  be  elated 
with  Reafon  ;  for  you  will  be  elated  on  fome  Good 
cf  your  own. 

VII. 

(c)  The  Tranflation  follows  Mr,  Vpton\  Correction  of  the 
Text  in  this  Chiipter. 


ne  Enchiridion.  jpi 

VII. 

As  in  a  Voyage,  when  the  Ship  is  at  Anchor, 
if  you  go  on  Shore,  to  get  Water,  you  may  amufe 
yourfelf  with  picking  up  a  Shell-fifh,  or  an  Onion, 
in  your  Way ;  but  your  Thoughts  ought  to  be 
bent  towards  the  Ship,  and  perpetually  attentive, 
left  the  Captain  fhould  call ;  and  then  you  muft 
Jeave  all  thefe  Things,  that  you  may  not  be 
thrown  into  the  VefTel,  bound  Neck  and  Heels, 
like  a  Sheep.  Thus  like  wife  in  Life,  if,  inftead  of 
an  Onion,  or  a  Shell-fifli,  fuch  a  Thing  as  a  Wife 
or  a  Child  be  granted  you,  there  is  no  Objedion : 
but  if  the  Captain  calls,  run  to  the  Ship,  leave  all 
thefe  Things,  regard  none  of  them.  But,  if  you  are 
old,  never  go  far  from  the  Ship :  left,  when  you 
are  called,  you  fhould  be  unable  to  come  in  time. 
VIII. 

Require  not  Things  to  happen  as  you  wifh ; 
but  wifli  them  to  happen  as  they  do  happen  j  and 
you  will  pro  on  well 

IX. 

Sickness  is  an  Impediment  to  the  Body,  but  not 
to  the  Faculty  of  Choice,  unlefs  itfelf  pleafes. 
Lamenefs  is  an  Impediment  to  the  Leg,  but  not  to 
the  Faculty  of  Choice  :  and  fay  this  to  yourfelf  with 
regard  to  every  thing  that  happens.  For  you  will 
find  it  to  be  an  Impediment  to  fomething  elfe  ;  but 
not  to  yourfelf. 

X. 

Upon  every  Accident,  remember  to  turn  to- 
wards yourfelf,  and  enquire,  what  Powers  you  have 
for  making  a  proper  Ufe  of  it.  If  you  fee  a  hand- 
fome  Perlbn,  you  will  find  Continence  a  Power 
againft  this  :  if  Pain  be  prefented  to  you,  you  will 
find  Fortitude :  if  Ill-Language,  you  will  find  Pa- 
tience. And  thus  habituated,  the  Appearances  of 
Things  will  not  hurry  you  away  along  with  them. 

C  c  4  XI. 


39Jt  ^be  Enchiridion. 

XI. 

Never  fay  of  any  thing,  *' I  have  loflit;'*  but, 
**  I  have  reflored  it."  Is  your  Child  dead  ?  It  is 
reflored.  Is  your  Wife  dead  ?  She  is  reflored.  Is 
your  Eftate  taken  away }  Well :  and  is  not  that 
likewife  reflored  ?  ''  But  he  who  took  it  away  is  ^ 
*'  bad  Man."  What  is  it  to  you,  by  whofe  Hands 
He,  who  gave  it,  hath  demanded  it  back  again  f 
While  He  gives  you  to  pofTefs  it,  take  care  of  it ; 
but  as  of  fomething  not  your  own,  as  Paflengers 
do  of  an  Inn. 

XII. 

If  you  would  improve,  lay  afide  fuch  Reafbnings 
as  thefe.  "  If  I  negled  my  Affairs,  I  fhall  not 
*'  have  a  Maintai nance  :  if  I  do  not  corred  my  Ser- 
**  vant,  he  will  be  good  for  nothing."  For  it  is 
better  to  die  with  Hunger,  exempt  from  Grief  and 
Fear,  than  to  live  in  Affluence  with  Perturbation  : 
and  it  is  better  your  Servant  fhould  be  bad,  than 
you  unhappy. 

Begin  therefore  from  little  Things.  Is  a  little 
Oil  fpilt?  A  little  Wine  flolen  .?  Say  to  yourfelf, 
*'  This  is  the  Purchafe  paid  for  Apathy,  for  Tran- 
*'  quillity ;  and  nothing  is  to  be  had  for  nothing.** 
And  when  you  call  your  Servant,  confider,  it  is 
polfible  he  may  not  come  at  your  Call ;  or,  if  he 
doth,  that  he  may  not  do  what  you  would  have 
him  do.  But  he  is  by  no  means  of  fuch  Impor- 
tance C^\  that  it  fhould  be  in  his  Power  to  give 
you  any  Diflurbance.  ^ 

XIII. 

{e)  If  you  would  improve,  be  content  to  be 
thought  foolifh  »nd  flupid  with  regard  to  Externals. 

Do 

{d)  Thus  fome  MSS,  Changing  in  others  xtc'huq  into  ttuxaq, 
theTranfladon  will  be  It  is  not  (o  well  with  Him,  and 

ill  with  You. 

{e)  There  Is  a  great  Lijtenef^  to  Chriftian  Phrafes  and  Doc- 
trines in  this  Chapter. 


The  Enchiridion.  393 

Do  not  wifh  to  be  thought  to  know  any  thing;  and 
though  you  fhould  appear  to  be  fomebody  to  others, 
diflrufl  yourfelf.  For,  be  afTured,  it  is  not  eafy  at 
once  to  preferve  your  Faculty  of  Choice  in  a  State 
conformable  to  Nature,  and  [to  fecure]  Externals.: 
but  while  you  are  careful  about  the  one,  you  mull 
of  Necellity  neglect  the  other. 

XIV. 
If  you  wifh  your  Children,  and  your  Wife,  and 
your  Friends,  to  live  for  ever,  you  are  ftupid  :  for 
you  wifh  Things  to  be  in  your  Power,  which  are 
not  ^o  j  and,  what  belongs  to  others,  to  be  your 
own.  So  hkewife,  if  you  wilh  your  Servant  to  be 
without  Fault,  you  are  a  Fool ;  for  you  wifh  Vice 
not  to  be  Vice  (/),  but  fomething  elfe.  But,  if  you 
wifh  to  have  your  Defires  undifappointed,  this^is 
in  your  own  Power.  Exercife,  therefore,  what  is 
in  your  Power.  He  is  the  Mafler  of  every  other 
Perfon,  who  is  able  to  confer,  or  remove,  whate- 
ver that  Perfon  wifhes  either  to  have  or  to  avoid. 
Whoever  then  would  be  free,  let  him  wilh  nothing, 
let  him  decline  nothing,  which  depends  on  others-, 
elle  he  mull  neceffarily  be  a  Slave. 

XV, 
Remember  that  you  mull  behave  [in  Life]  as  at 
an  Entertainment  fg).  Is  any  diing  brought  round 
to  you  ?  Put  out  your  Hand,  and  take  your  Share, 
with  Moderation.  Doth  it  pafs  by  you  ^.  Do  not 
flop  it.  Is  it  not  yet  come  ?  Do  not  llretch  forth 
your  Defire  towards  it,  but  wait  till  it  reaches  you. 
Thus  [do]  with  regard  to  Children,  to  a  Wife,  to 
public  Polls,  to  Riches ;  and  you  will  be  fome  time 
or  other  a  worthy  Partner  of  the  Fealls  of  the  Gods. 
And  if  you  do  not  fo  much  as  take  the  Things 
which  are  fet  before  you,  but  are  able  even  to  del^ 

pife 

{/)  /.  e.  dependent  on  Perfons  own  Choice. 
{g)  An  Allulion  to  the  Cuftom,  in  the  antlent  Entertainments, 
f3f  carr^'ing  round  the  Difhes  to  each  of  the  Guefls.    Upto.m, 


394  ^^^  E  N  c  ir  I  R  i  d  i  o  n, 

pife  them,  then  you  will  not  only  be  a  Partner  of 
the  Feaits  of  the  Gods,  but  of  their  Empire  alio. 
For,  by  thus  doing,  Diogenes  and  Heraclitus  {h\ 
and  others  like  them,  defervedly  became,  and  were 
called,  divine. 

XVI. 

When  you  fee  any  one  weeping  for  Grief,  either 
that  his  Son  is  gone  abroad,  or  dead,  or  that  he 
hath  fuffered  in  his  Affairs ;  take  heed,  that  the 
Appearance  may  not  hurry  you  away  with  it.  But 
immediately  make  the  Diftinclion  within  your 
own  Mind  ;  and  have  it  ready  to  fay,  "  It  is  not 
*'  the  Accident  [itfelf]  that  diftreffes  this  Per fon^ 
*'  for  it  doth  not  diftrefs  another  Man  ;  but  the 
*'  Judgment,  which  he  forms  concerning  it."  As  far 
as  Words  go,  however,  do  not  difdain  to  condefcend 
to  him  •,  and  even,  if  it  (hould  fb  happen,  to  groan 
with  him.  Take  heed,  however,  not  to  groan  in- 
wardly too. 

XVII. 

Remember  that  you  are  an  Ador  in  a  Drama, 
of  fuch  a  Kind  as  the  Author  pleafes  to  make  it.  If 
fliort,  of  a  fhort  one;  if  long,  of  a  long  one.  If  it 
be  hisPleafure  you  (hould  ad  a  poor  Man,  a  Crip- 
ple, a  Governor,  or  a  private  Perfon,  fee  that  you 
ad  it  naturally.  For  this  is  your  Bufinefs,  to  ad 
well  the  Charader  alligned  you :  to  chufe  it,  is  an- 
other's. 

XVIII. 

When  a  Raven  happens  to  croak  unluckily,  let 
not  the  Appearance  hurry  you  away  with  it :  but 
immediately  make  the  Dillindion  to  yourfelf ;  and 
fay,  ''  None  of  thefe  Things  is  portended  to  me ; 
*'  but  either  to  my  paultry  Body,  or  Property,  or 
**  Reputation,  or  Children,  or  Wife.  But  to  me 
*^  all  Portents  are  lucky,  if  I  will.     For  which-ever 

"of 

(h)  For  Beracliiusy  I  fufpca,  fhould  be  read  Hercules. 


^he  Enchiridion.  29j 

"  of  thefe  Things  happens,  it  is  in  my  Power  to 
"  derive  Advantage  from  it." 
XIX. 

You  may  be  unconquerable,  if  you  enter  into 
no  Combat,  in  which  it  is  not  in  your  own  Power  to 
conquer.  When,  therefore,  you  fee  any  one  emi- 
nent in  Honours,  or  Power,  or  in  high  Efceem  on 
any  other  Account,  take  heed  not  to  be  hurried 
away  with  the  Appearance,  and  to  pronounce  him 
happy :  for,  if  the  EiTence  of  Good  con  fills  in 
Things  in  our  own  Power,  there  will  be  no  room 
for  Envy,  or  Emulation,  But,  for  your  Part,  do 
not  wifh  to  be  a  General,  or  a  Senator,  or  a  Conful, 
but  [to  be]  free  :  and  the  only  way  to  this,  is,  a 
Contempt  of  Things  not  in  our  own  Power. 
XX. 

Re  ME  M  B  ER,  that  not  he  who  gives  III  Language, 
or  a  Blow,  affronts  •,  but  the  Principle,  which  le- 
prefents  thefe  Things  as  affronting.  When  there- 
fore, any  one  provokes  you,  be  aflured,  that  it  is 
your  own  Opinion  which  provokes  you.  Try,  there- 
fore, in  the  firft  place,  not  to  be  hurried  away  with 
the  Appearance.  For,  if  you  once  gain  Tim.eand 
Refpite,  you  will  more  eafily  command  yourfelf. 
XXL 

Let  Death  and  Exile,  and  all  other  Things 
which  appear  terrible,  be  daily  before  your  Eyes; 
but  chiefly  Death  :  and  you  will  never  entertain 
any  abjedt  Thought,  nor  too  eagerly  covet  any 
thing. 

XXII. 

If  you  have  an  earneft  Defire  of  attaining  to 
Philofophy,  prepare  yourfelf  from  the  very  firfl 
to  be  laughed  at,  to  be  fneered  by  the  Multitude, 
to  hear  them  fay,  "  He  is  returned  to  us  a  Philofo* 
^'  pher  all  at  once  j"  and,  "  Whence  this  fuper- 
*'  cilious  Look  .?"  Now,  for  your  Part,  do  not 
have  a  fupercilious  Look  indeed  ;  but  keep  flea^ 
fdily  to  thofe  Things  which  appear  beil  to  you,  as 

one 


596  The  Enchiridion. 

one  appointed  by  God  to  this  Station.  For  remem- 
ber, that,  if  you  adhere  to  the  fame  Point,  thofe 
very  Perfons  who  at  firft  ridiculed,  will  afterwards 
admire  you.  But,  if  you  are  conquered  by  them, 
you  will  incur  a  double  Ridicule. 

XXIII. 
If  you  ever  happen  to  turn  your  Attention  to 
Externals,  fb  as  to  wifh  to  pleale  any  one,  be  aiVured, 
that  you  have  ruined  your  Scheme  of  Life  (0-  ^e 
contented  then,  in  every  thing,  with  beingaPhilo- 
Ibpher :  and,  if  you  wifh  to  be  thought  fo  like- 
wife  by  any  one,  appear  fo  to  yourfelf,  and  it  will 
fuffice  you. 

XXIV. 
Let  not  fuch  Confiderations  as  thefe  diftreis  you. 
^'  1  fhall  live  in  Difhonour ;  and  be  no-body  any- 
"  where."  For,  if  Difhonour  is  an  Evil,  you  can 
no  more  be  involved  in  any  Evil  by  the  Means  of 
another,  than  be  engaged  in  any  thing  bafe.  Is 
it  any  Bufmefs  of  yours  then,  to  get  Power,  or  to 
be  admitted  to  an  Entertainment  ?  By  no  means. 
How  then,  after  all,  is  this  a  Difhonour  ?  And 
how  is  it  true,  that  you  will  be  no-body  any-wbere ; 
when  you  ought  to  be  fome-body  in  thofe  Things 
only,  which  are  in  your  own  Power,  in  which  you 
may  be  of  the  greatefl  Confequence  ?    ^'  But  my 

*'  Friends  will  be  unaflifled." What  do  you 

mean  by  unaffifted  ?  They  will  not  have  Money 
from  you  ;  nor  will  you  make  them  Roman  Citi- 
zens. Who  told  you  then,  that  thefe  are  among 
the  Things  in  our  own  Power  j  and  not  the  Affair 
of  others  ?  And  who  can  give  to  another  the  Things 
which  he  hath  not  himfelf .?  "  Well :  but  get  them 
"  then,  that  we  too  may  have  a  Share.'*  If  I  can 
get  them  with  the  Prefer  vat  ion  of  my  own  Honour, 

and 


(/)   Jf  I  yet  pkafed  Men,  I  Jhould  not  be  the  Servant  of  Chrijl, 
Gal.  i.  lo. 


Tbe  Enchiridion.  ^97 

and  Fidelity,  and  greatnefs  of  Mind,  fhow  me  the 
Way,  and  I  will  get  them  :  but,  if  you  require 
me  to  lofe  my  own  proper  Good,  that  you  may 
gain  what  is  no  Good,  confider  how  unequitable 
and  foolifh  you  are.  Befides  :  which  would  you 
rather  have  a  Sum  of  Money  \  or  a  Friend  of  Fi- 
delity and  Honour  ?  Rather  aflifl  me  then  to  gain 
this  Charader,  than  require  me  to  do  tbofe  Things 
by  which  I  may  lofe  it.  Well :  but  my  Country, 
fay  you,  as  far  as  depends  upon  me,  will  be  unaf* 
fifted.  Here  again,  what  Afliflance  is  this  you 
mean  ?  "  It  will  not  have  Porticos,  nor  Baths,  of 
*'  your  providing."  And  what  fignifies  that  ? 
Why,  neither  doth  a  Smith  provide  it  with  Shoes, 
or  a  Shoemaker  with  Arms.  It  is  enough,  if  eve- 
ry one  fully  performs  his  own  proper  Bufinefs.  And 
were  you  to  fupply  it  with  another  Citizen  of  Ho- 
nour and  Fidelity,  would  not  {k)  he  be  of  Ufe  to 
it  ?  Yes.  Therefore  neither  are  you  yourfelf  ufe- 
lefs  to  it.  *'  What  Place  then,  fay  you,  fhall  1 
*'  hold  in  the  State  ?*'  Whatever  you  can  hold 
with  the  Prefervation  of  your  Fidelity  and  Honour. 
But  if,  by  defiring  to  be  ufeful  to  that,  you  lofe 
thefe,  of  what  Ufe  can  you  be  to  your  Country, 
when  you  are  become  taithlefs,  and  void  of  Shame  ? 
XXV. 
Is  any  one  preferred  before  you  at  an  Entertain- 
ment, or  in  a  Compliment,  or  in  being  admitted 
to  a  Confuhation  ^  If  thefe  Things  are  good  you 
ought  to  rejoice,  that  be  hath  got  them  ;  and,  if 
they  are  evil,  do  not  be  grieved,  that  you  have  not 
got  them.  And  remember,  that  you  cannot,  with- 
out ufing  the  fame  Means  [which  others  do]  to  ac- 
quire Things  not  in  our  own  Power,  exped  to  be 
thought  worthy  of  an  equal  Share  of  them.     For 

how 

(k)  I  have  followed  the  Conjecture  of  a  Friend,  who  thinks 
u^thsii  (hould  be  «^tX«t,  to  preferve  an  Oppofition  between  the 
Perfon  fignified  by  it,  aod  the  o-w  uvt^  in  the  next  Sentence. 


398  ^be  Enchiridion. 

how  can  be,  who  doth  not  frequent  the  Door  of 
any  [great]  Man,  doth  not  attend  him,  doth  not 
praife  him,  have  an  equal  Share  with  him  who 
doth  ?  You  are  unjufl  then,  and  unfatiable,  if  you 
are  unwilling  to  pay  the  Price  for  which  thefe 
Things  are  fold,  and  would  have  them  for  nothing. 
For  how  much  are  Lettuces  ibid  ?  A  Half-penny, 
for  Inilance.  If  another  then,  paying  a  Half- pen- 
ny, takes  the  Lettuces,  and  you,  not  paying  it,  go 
without  them,  do  not  imagine,  that  he  hath  gain- 
ed any  Advantage  over  you.  For  as  he  hath  the 
Lettuces,  fo  you  have  the  Half-penny,  which  you 
did  not  give.  So,  in  the  prefent  Cafe,  you  have 
not  been  invited  to  fuch  a  Perfon's  Entertainment  5 
becaufe  you  have  not  paid  him  the  Price  for  which 
a  Supper  is  (old.  It  is  fold  for  Praife  :  it  is  fold 
for  Attendance.  Give  him  then  the  Value,  if  it 
be  for  your  Advantage.  But,  if  you  would,  at  the 
fame  time,  not  pay  the  one,  and  yet  receive  the 
other^  you  are  infatiable,  and  a  Blockhead.  Have 
you  nothing  then,  inilead  of  the  Supper  .?  Yes  in- 
deed you  have  -,  the  not  praifmg  him,  whom  you 
do  not  like  to  praife  ;  the  not  bearing  with  his  Be- 
haviour at  coming  in  (I). 

XXVI. 
The  Will  of  Nature  may  be  learned  from  thofe 
Things,  in  which  we  do  not  differ  from  each  other. 
As,  when  our  Neighbour's  Boy  hath  broken  a  Cup, 
or  the  like,  we  are  prefently  ready  to  fay,  "  Thefe 
*^  are  Things  that  will. happen."  Be  alTured  then, 
that,  when  your  own  Cup  likewife  is  broken,  you 
ought  to  be  affeded  jufl  as  when  another's  Cup 
was  broken.  1  ransfer  this,  in  like  manner,  to 
greater  Things.  Is  the  Child  or  Wife  of  another 
dead  ?  There  is  no  one  who  would  not  fay,  **  This 


(/)  Or,   according  to  the  Pvcadlng  in  Smplicim — lh€  Attend- 
ants in  his  Antechamber. 


7hc  Enchiridion.  399 

•*  is  a  human  Accident."  But  if  any  one's  (m) 
own  Child  happens  to  die,  it  is  prefently,  ''  Alas  ! 
*'  how  wretched  am  I!''  But  it  fhould  be  remem- 
bered, how  we  are  afFeded  in  hearing  the  lame 
Thing  concerning  others. 

XXVII. 
As  a  Mark  (n)  is  not  fet  up  for  the  Sake  of 
milling  the  Aim,  fo  neither  doth  the  Nature  of  Evil 
exifl  in  the  World. 

xxvm. 

If  a  Perfon  had  delivered  up  your  Body  to  any- 
one, whom  he  met  in  his  Way,  you  would  certain- 
ly be  angry.  And  do  you  feel  no  Shame  in  deli- 
vering up  your  own  Mind  to  be  difconcerted,  and 
confounded  by  any  one,  who  happens  to  give  you 
ill  Language } 

XXIX  {0), 

XXX. 

Duties  are  univerfally  meafured  by  Relations. 
Is  any  one  a  Father  ?  In  this  are  implied,  as  due. 
Taking  Care  of  him  ;  fubmitting  to  him  in  all 
Things;  patiently  receiving  his  Reproaches,  his 
Corredlion.  But  he  is  a  bad  Father.  Is  your  na- 
tural Tie  then  to  a  good  Father  ?  No  :  but  to  a  Fa- 
ther.   Is  a  Brother  unjuft  ?    Well :    preferve  your 

own 


{m)  Natural  AfFedion  prompts  us  to  grieve  for  a  Wife  or  a 
Child,  and  to  fympathize  with  the  Griefs  of  others :  whence 
Chriftianity  teaches  us  to  iveep  luith  them  <who  ^weep :  yet  for- 
bidding us,  in  any  Cafe,  to  forroiu  as  ^without  Hope.  Stoicifm 
carries  Truth  into  Abfurdity^  while  Chriftian  Philofophy  makes 
all  Truths  coincide,  uniting  Fortitude  with  Tendernefs  and 
Compaffion. 

(»)  Happinefs,  the  Effect  of  Virtue,  is  the  Mark  which  God 
hath  fet  up  for  us  to  aim  at.  Our  milfing  it,  is  no  Work  of 
His ;  nor  fo  properly  any  Thing  real,  as  a  mere  Negative  and 
Failure  of  our  own. 

(0)  This  Chapter,  except  fome  very  trifling  Differences,  is 
the  fame  with  the  Fifteenth  of  the  Third  Book  of  the  Difcour- 
les  J  therefore  unaecelfary  to  be  repeated  here. 


4^0  The  Enchiridion'. 

own  Situation  towards  him.     Confider  not  what  he 
doth  i    but  what  you  are  to  do,  to  keep  your  own 
Faculty  of  Choice  in  a  State  conformable  to  Na- 
ture.    For  another  will  not  hurt  you,   unlefs  you 
pleafe.     You  will  then  be  hurt,  when  you  think  you 
are  hurt.     In  this  manner,  therefore,  you  will  find, 
from  [the  Idea  of]  a  Neighbour,  a  Citizen,  a  Ge- 
neral, the  [correfponding]  Duties,  if  you  accuftom 
yourfelf  to  contemplate  the  [feveral]  Relations. 
XXXI. 
Be  affured,   that  the  eflential  Property  of  Piety 
towards  the  Gods,  is,  to  form  right  Opinions  con- 
cerning them,  as  exifting  (p)^  and  as  governing  the 
Univerfe  with  Goodnefs  and  Juftice.      And  fix 
yourfelf  in  this  Refolution,  to  obey  therh,  and  yield 
to  them,    and  willingly  follow  them  in  all  Events, 
as  produced  by  the  moft  perfed  Underflanding. 
For,  thus  you  will  never  find  Fault  with  the  Gods, 
nor  accufe  them  as  negleding  you.     And  it  is  not 
poiTible  for  this  to  be  effedted  any  other  way  (q\ 
than  by  vvithdrawing  yourfelf  from  Things  not  in 
our  own  Power,  and  placing  Good  or  Evil  in  thofe 
only  which  are.     For  if  you  fuppofe  any  of  the 
Things,  not  in  our  own  Power,    to  be  either  good 
or  evil ;    when  you  are  di (appointed  of  what  you 
wifh,  or  incur  what  you  would  avoid,  you  muft  ne- 
cefTaiily  find  fault  with,    and  blame  the  Authors. 
For  every  Animal  is  naturally  formed  to  fly  and 
abhor  Things  that  appear  hurtful,    and  the  Caufes 
of  them  ;    and  to  purfue  and  admire  thofe  which 
appear  beneficial,    and  the  Caufes  of  them.     It  is 
impradicable  then,    that  one  who  fuppofes  himfelf 
to  be  hurt,    fhould  rejoice  in  the  Perlbn  who,    he 
thinks,  hurts  him  •,  juft  as  it  is  impoflible  to  rejoice 
in  the  Hurt  itfelf     Hence,  alfo,    a  Father  is  revi- 
led by  a  Son,  when  he  doth  not  impart  to  him  the 

Things 

(p)  He  that  Cometh  to  God,  mufl  belie've  that  He  is  ;    and  thai 
He  is  a  Reiuarder  of  them  that  diligently  fetk  Him.  Heb.  xi.  6. 
{q)  AAAtf5  T«,   Ihould  be  ccMwj  ^. 


The  E  N  c  H  i'r  I  d  I  o  n.  401 

Things  which  he  takes  to  be  good  :  and  the  iup- 
pofing  Empire  to  be  a  Good,  made  Polynices  and 
Eteocles  mutually  Enemies.  On  this  account  the 
Hufbandman,  the  Sailor,  the  Merchant ;  on  this 
account  thofe  who  lofe  Wives  and  Children,  revile 
the  Gods.  For  v/here  Intereft  is,  there  too  is  Piety 
placed.  So  that,  whoever  is  careful  to  regulate  his 
Defires  and  Averfions  as  he  ought,  is,  by  the  very 
fame  Means,  careful  of  Piety  likewile.  But  it  is 
alfo  incumbent  on  every  one  to  offer  Libations, 
and  Sacrifices,  and  Firfl  Fruits,  conformably  to 
the  Cufloms  of  his  Country,  with  Purity ;  and  not 
in  a  flovenly  manner,  nor  negligently,  nor  fparing- 
ly,  nor  beyond  his  Ability. 

XXXII. 
When  you  have  Recourfe  to  Divination,  re- 
member, that  you  know  not  what  the  Event  will 
be,  and  you  come  to  learn  it  of  the  Diviner  :  but 
of  what  Nature  it  is,  you  know  before  you  come  •, 
at  leaft,  if  you  are  a  Philofopher.  For  if  it  is  among 
the  Things  not  in  our  own  Power,  it  can  by  no 
means  be  either  good  or  evil.  Do  not,  therefore, 
bring  either  Defire  or  Averfion  with  you  to  the  Di- 
viner, (elfe you  will  approach  him  trembling;)  but 
lirft  acquire  a  diftindl  Knowledge,  that  every  Event 
is  indifferent,  and  nothing  to  yrM^  of  whatever  Sort 
it  may  be ;  for  it  will  be  in  your  Power  to  make  a 
right  Ufe  of  it ;  and  this  no  one  can  hinder  :  then 
come  with  Confidence  to  the  Gods,  as  your  Coun- 
fellors :  and  afterwards,  when  any  (Jounfel  is  given 
you,  remember  what  Coun fellors  you  have  aflu- 
med ;  and  whofe  Advice  you  will  negledl,  if  you 
difobey.  Come  to  Divination,  as  Socrates  prefcri- 
bed,  in  Cafes,  of  which  the  whole  Confideration 
relates  to  the  Event,  and  in  which  no  Opportuni- 
ties are  afforded  by  Reafon,  or  any  other  Art,  to 
difcover  the  Thing  propofed  to  be  learned.  When, 
therefore,  it  is  our  Duty  to  Ihare  the  Danger  of  a 
Friend,  or  of  our  Countrv,  we  ous^ht  not  to  con- 
D  a  "  fult 


4^2  ^he  Enchihipion. 

fult  the  Oracle,  whether  we  (hall  fhare  it  with  them, 
or  not.  For  though  the  Diviner  fliould  forewarn 
you,  that  the  Victims  are  unfavourable,  this  means 
no  more,  than  that  either  Death,  or  Mutilation,  or 
Exile,  is  portended.  But  we  have  Reafon  within 
us  :  and  it  directs,  even  with  thefe  Hazards,  to 
fland  by  our  Friend  and  our  Country.  Attend 
therefore  to  the  greater  Diviner,  the  Pythian  God  ; 
who  call  out  of  the  Temple,  the  Perfon  who  gave 
no  Alliftance  to  his  Friend,  while  another  was  mur- 
dering him. 

XXXIII. 

Immediately  prefcribe  fome  Charadter  and 
Form  [of  Behaviour]  to  yourfelf,  which  you  may 
preferve,  both  alone,  and  in  Company. 

Be  for  the  mod  part  filent :  or  fpeak  merely  what 
is  neceflary,  and  in  few  Words.  We  may  how- 
ever enter,  though  fparingly,  into  Difcourfe  fome- 
times,  when  Occafion  calls  for  it :  but  not  on  any 
of  the  common  Subjeds,  of  Gladiators,  or  Horle 
Races,  or  athletic  Champions,  or  Feafts ;  the  vul- 
gar Topics  of  Converfation  :  but  principally  not  of 
Men,  fo  as  either  to  blame,  or  praife,  or  make 
Comparifons.  If  you  are  able  then,  by  your  own 
Converfation,  bring  over  that  of  your  Company  to 
proper  Subjeds  :  but,  if  you  happen  to  be  taken 
among  Strangers,  be  filent. 

Let  not  your  (r)  Laughter  be  much,  nor  on  ma- 
ny Occafions,  nor  profufe. 

Avoid  Swearing,  if  pofTible,  altogether ;  if  not, 
as  far  as  you  are  able. 

Avoid  public  and  vulgar  Entertainments:  but,  if 
ever  an  Occalion  calls  you  to  them,  keep  your  At- 
tention upon  the  Stretch,  that  you  may  not  imper- 
ceptibly Aide  into  vulgar  Manners.  For  be  afTured, 
that  if  a  Perfon  be  ever  fo  found  himfelf,  yet,  if  his 
Companion  be  infecled,  he  who  con verfes  with  him 
will  be  infeded  likewife. 

Provide 
(r)  See  Eecle/  ii.  2.     vli.  ^^^6.    Ecclus.  xix.  30.     xxi.  20. 


^he  En  c  h  I  r  I  d  I  o n.  403 

Provide  Things  relating  to  the  Body  no  farther 
than  mere  life ;  as  Meat,  Drink,  Cloathing,  Hoiile, 
Family.  But  llrike  off,  and  rejedl,  every  thing  re- 
lating to  Show  and  Delicacy. 

As  far  as  polfible,  before  Marriage,  preferve 
yourfelf  pure  from  Familiarities  with  Women  :  and, 
if  you  indulge  them,  let  it  be  lawfully  (j).  But  do 
not  therefore  be  troublefome,  and  full  of  Reproofs, 
to  thofe  v/ho  ufe  thefe  Liberties  j  nor  frequently 
boafl,  that  you  yuurfelf  do  not. 

If  any  one  tells  you,  that  fuch  a  Perfbn  fpeaks  ill 
of  you,  do  not  make  Excufes  about  what  is  faid  of 
you,  but  anfwer  •,  "  He  doth  not  know  my  other 
"  Faults,  elfe  he  would  not  have  mentioned  only 
*'  thefe." 

It  is  not  necelTary  for  you  to  appear  often  at  pub- 
lic Spedlacles  :  but  if  ever  there  is  a  proper  Occa- 
fion  for  you  to  be  there,  do  not  appear  more  (bli- 
ci tons  for  any  one,  than  for  yourfelf  j  that  is,  wifh 
Things  to  be  only  jull  as  they  are,  and  him  only 
to  conquer  who  is  the  Conqueror  :  for  thus  you 
will  meet  with  no  Hindrance.  But  abdain  entirely 
from  Acclamations,  and  Derifion,  and  violent  Emo- 
tions. And  wheft  you  come  away,  do  not  difcourle 
a  great  deal  on  what  hath  paPicd,  and  what  doth 
not  contribute  to  your  own  Amendment.  For  it 
would  appear  by  fuch  Difcourfe,  that  you  were  im- 
moderately flruck  with  the  Show. 

Go  not  [of  your  own  Accord]  to  the  Rehearfals  of 
any  [Authors],  nor  appear  [at  themj  readily.  But 
if  you  do  appear,  preferve  your  Gravity  and  Se- 
datenefs,  and  at  the  fame  time  avoid  being  mo- 
rofe. 

D  d  2  When 

(/)  Public  Proilitutes  were  allov;ed  hv  the  Laws  at  Rome  and 
in  Greece.  The  Mifchiefs,  occafioned  by  Perlbns  of  this  Cha- 
rafter,  fcarcely  fo  much  as  hinted  by  the  Stoic  Philofopher,  are 
the  Subjedl  of  niaiiy  beautiful  Reflexions  in  the  Book  of  Pro- 

*verbs. 


404  7/^^   En'C  H  I  R  I  D  ION. 

When  you  are  going  to  confer  with  any  one, 
and  particularly  of  thofe  in  a  fuperior  Station,  re- 
prefent  to  yourfelf  how  Socrates  (/),  or  Zeno^  would 
behave  in  fuch  a  Cafe,  and  you  will  not  be  at  a  Lofs 
to  make  a  proper  Ufe  of  whatever  may  occur. 

When  you  are  going  to  any  of  the  People  in 
Power,  reprefent  to  yourfelf,  that  you  will  not  find 
hirn  at  home  :  that  you  will  not  be  admitted  [into 
the  Houfe]  :  that  the  Doors  [of  his  Apartment]  wiM 
not  be  opened  to  you  :  that  he  will  take  no  Notice 
of  you  If,  with  all  this,  it  be  your  Duty  to  go, 
bear  what  happens,  and  never  fay  [to  yourfelf],  ''  It 
"  was  not  worth  fo  much."  For  this  is  vulgar,  and 
like  a  Man  difconcerted  by  Externals  (ti). 

In  Parties  of  Converfation,  avoid  a  frequent  and 
excelTive  mention  of  your  own  Actions,  and  Dan- 
gers. For,  however  agreeable  it  may  be  to  your- 
felf to  mention  the  Rifques,  you  have  run^  it  is  not 
equally  agreeable  to  others  to  hear  your  Adventures. 
Avoid',  likewife,  an  Endeavour  to  excite  Laughter. 
For  this  is  a  dippery  Point,  which  may  throw  you 
into  vulgar  Manners  :  and,  befides,  may  be  apt  to 
lefTen  you  in  the  Efleem  of  your  Acquaintance. 
Approaches  to  indecent  Difcourfe  are  likewife  dan- 
gerous. Whenever,  therefore,  any  thing  of  this 
Sort  happens,  if  there  be  a  proper  Opportunity,  re- 
buke him  who  makes  Advances  that  way :  or,  at 
leaft,  by  Silence,  and  Blufhing,  and  a  forbidding 
Look,  fhow  yourfelf  to  be  difpleafed  by  fuch  Talk. 

XXXIV. 

(/)  It  {hould  be  obferved  here,  that,  the  Mind  being  thus 
naturally  affefted  by  the  Thought  of  imitating  a  fuperior  Cha- 
racter, Chriftians  enjoy  a  fingular  Advantage,  in  not  being  left 
to  rtudy  and  copy  the  imperfetl  and  faulty  Patterns  of  Perfons 
no  way  particularly  related  to  them  ;  but  having  an  authentic 
D'lineatidn  of  divine  Excellence,  familiarized  to  their  Appre- 
henfions-in  Him,  who,  both  in  ading  and  fufFering  for  us, 
hath  left  us  an  Example,  that  ive  Jhould  folloiL  his  Steps. 

[u]  A  late  Editor  of  the  Enchiridion  hath  propofed  to  read 
^iet'jtiTr'^riyy.ivii  inftead  of  waj^tjS^TjfAiytf. 


The  Enchiridion.  405 

XXXIV, 

If  you  are  (Iruck  by  the  Appearance  of  any  pro- 
mifed  Pleafure,  guard  yourfelf  againfl:  being  hur- 
ried away  by  it :  but  let  the  Affair  wait  your  Lei- 
fure,  and  procure  yourfelf  fome  Delay.  Then  bring 
to  your  Mind  both  Points  of  Time  ;  that  in  which 
you  (hall  enjoy  the  Pieafure,  and  that  in  wliich  you 
will  repent  and  reproach  yourfelf,  after  you  have 
enjoyed  it :  and  fet  before  you,  in  Oppofuion  to 
thefe,  how  you  will  rejoice  and  applaud  yourfelf,  if 
you  abftain.  And  even,  though  it  fhould  appear 
to  you  a  feafcnable  Gratification,  take  heed,  that  its 
enticing,  and  agreeable,  and  attradive  Force  may 
may  not  fubdue  you :  but  fet  in  Oppofition  to  this, 
how  much  better  it  is,  to  be  confcious  of  having 
gained  fo  great  a  Vidory. 

XXXV. 

When  you  do  any  thing  from  a  clear  Judgment 
that  it  ought  to  be  done,  never  fhun  the  being  {ttn 
to  do  it,  even  though  the  World  fhould  make  a 
wrong  Suppofition  about  it :  for,  if  you  do  not  adt 
right,  fhun  the  Adlion  itfelf ^  but,  if  you  do,  why 
are  you  afraid  of  thofe  who  cenfure  you  wrongly  ? 
XXXVI. 

As  the  Propofition,  Either  it  is  Day^  or  it  is 
Nighty  is  extremely  proper  for  a  disjundive  Argu- 
ment, but  quite  improper  in  a  conjundive  one  (w) : 
fo,  at  a  Feaft,  to  chafe  the  largeft  Share,  is  very 
fuitable  to  the  bodily  Appetite,  but  utterly  incon- 
fiftent  with  the  fecial  Spirit  of  an  Entertainment. 
When  you  eat  with  another,  then  remember,  not 
only  the  Value  of  thofe  Things  which  are  fet  before 
you,  to  the  Body ;  but  the  Value  of  that  Behaviour, 
v/hich  ought  to  be  obferved  towards  the  Perfon  who 
gives  the  Entertainment. 

D  d  3  XXXVII. 

■  (tu)  The  Stoics  were  fo  fond  of  Logic,  that  wc  mud  not 
wonder  if  Epi^etus  took,  a  Siraila  from  thence,  which  to  others 
inuft  appear -a  ftrange  one. 


4o6  ^be  Enchiridion. 

XXXVII. 

If  you  have  affumed  any  Charader  above  your 
Strength,  you  have  both  made  an  ill  Figure  in  that, 
and  quitted  one  which  you  might  have  iupported. 
XXXVIII. 

As,  in  walking,  you  take  care  not  to  tread  upon 
a  Nail,  or  turn  your  Foot ;  fo  likewife  take  care 
not  to  hurt  the  ruling  Faculty  of  your  Mind.  And, 
if  we  were  to  guard  againft  this  in  every  Adion, 
we  fhould  undertake  the  Adtion  with  the  greater 
Safety. 

XXXIX. 

The  Body  is  to  every  one  the  meafure  of  the 
PolTefnons  proper  for  it ;  as  the  Foot  is  of  the  Shoe. 
If,  therefore,  you  flop  at  this,  you  will  keep  the 
Meafure  :  but,  if  you  move  beyond  it,  you  mufl 
neceffarily  be  carried  forward,  as  down  a  Precipice  : 
as  in  the  Cafe  of  a  Shoe,  if  you  go  beyond  its  Fit- 
nefs  to  the  Foot,  it  comes  firft  to  be  gilded,  then 
purple  (^),  and  then  fludded  with  Jewels.  For  to 
that  which  once  exceeds  a  due  Meafure,  there  is  no 
Bound. 

XL. 

V^oMEN  from  fourteen  Years  old  are  flattered 
with  the  Title  of  Miflrefles,  by  the  Men.  There- 
fore, perceiving  that  they  are  regarded  only  as 
qualified  to  give  the  Men  Pleafure,  they  begin  to 
adorn  themfelves;  and  in  that  to  place  all  their 
Hopes.  It  is  worth  while,  therefore,  to  fix  our 
Attention  on  making  them  fenfible,  that  they  are 
efleemed  for  nothing  elfe,  but  the  Appearance  of 
a  decent,  and  mod  eft,  and  difcreet  Behaviour  (y), 

XLI. 

(*)  Purple  was  of  high  Honour  and  Price  among  the  An-^ 
tlents. 

(y)  The  original  Words  here,  xoa-fAiai  xa»  aj^rj/xovE?  tv  a-ufpfo- 
<rvpri,  are  alraoft  the  fame  with,  ev  x*T<»roAn  x»<r^ift>  ^vr**  «f^9!>j 
3c«ci  ffu(pfoavyn<if   I  Tim.  ii.  9. 


The  Enchiridion.  407 

XLI. 

It  is  a  Mark  of  want  of  Genius,  to  fpend  much 
Time  in  Things  relating  to  the  Body ;  as.  to  be 
long  in  our  Exercifes,  in  Eating,  and  Drinking,  and 
in  the  Difcharge  of  other  animal  Fundions.  Thefe 
fhould  be  done  incidentally,  and  (lightly  -,  and  our 
whole  Attention  be  engaged  in  the  Care  of  the  Un- 

derflanding. 

XLII. 

When  any  Perfon  doth  ill  by  you,  or  fpeaks  ill 
of  you,  remember  that  he  ads,  or  fpeaks,  from  a 
Suppofition  of  its  being  his  (z)  Duty.  Now,  it  is 
not  poflible,  that  he  fliould  follow  what  appears 
right  to  you,  but  what  appears  fo  to  himfelf.  There- 
fore, if  he  judges  from  a  wrong  Appearance,  He  is 
the  Perfon  hurt ;  fmce  He  too  is  the  Perfon  decei- 
ved. For,  if  any  one  fhould  fuppofe  a  true  Pro- 
portion to  be  falfe,  the  Propofition  is  not  hurt;  but 
he  who  is  deceived  [about  it].  Setting  out  then 
from  thefe  Principles,  you  will  meekly  bear  a  Per- 
fon who  reviles  you  :  for  you  v/ill  fay,  upon  every 
Occafion,  "  It  feemed  fo  to  him." 
XLIII. 

Every  Thing  hath  two  Handles  ;  the  one,  by 
which  it  may  be  borne  ;  the  other,  by  which  it 
cannot.  If  your  Brother  ads  unjullly,  do  not  lay 
hold  on  the  Adion  by  the  Handle  of  his  Injullice ; 
for  by  that  it  cannot  be  borne  :  but  by  the  Oppo- 
fite,  that  he  is  your  Brother,  that  he  was  brought 
D  d  4  up 

(«)  EpiSetus  feems,  in  part,  to  be  miftaken  here.  For,  per- 
haps, it  is  ottener  from  having  no  Thought  at  all  about  Duty, 
or  preferring  Inclination  to  it,  than  from  having  a  wrong  No- 
tion of  it,  that  Perfons  are  flanderous  and  injurious  :  beiides, 
that  wrong  Notions  often  arife  from  Negled,  or  Partiality. 
Suppofing  all  bad  Aaions  to  proceed  intirely  from  Ignorance, 
or  Mithke,  puts  them  on  a  Level,  in  point  of  Freedom  from 
Guilt,  with  good  ones.  But,  fince  many  proceed  from  thence, 
more  or  lefs,  the  Dodrine  of  this  Chapter  I?,  in  a  confider^ible 
Degree,  right :  and,  fo  far  as  it  is,  very  ftrongly  cails  to  one's 
Mind  that  divine  lutercellion-ri^^'-^^"'^^  '/-'^'■«  •'  ^^'^  ^'^9*  ^^^"^  "^^ 
fwhat  they  dg  !   - 


408  51&<?    E  N  CH  I  R  I  DION. 

up  with  you  :    and  thus  you  will  lay  hold  on  it,  as 
it  is  to  be  borne.  . 

XLIV. 

These  Reafonings  are  unconneded :  "  I  am 
*^'  richer  than  you;  therefore  I  am  better  :"  "  I  am 
''  more  eloquent  than  you  ;  thei*efore  I  am  better.'* 
The  Connexion  is  rather  this :  "  1  am  richer  than 
*^^  you  ;  ^therefore  my  Property  is  greater  than 
^1  yours  :"  "  I  am  m.ore  eloquent  than  you  -,  there- 
*'  fore  my  Style  is  better  than  yours."  But  you, 
after  all,  are  neither  Property,  nor  Style 

XLV. 
^  Doth  any  one  bathe  (^)  in  a  mighty  little  time  ? 
Do  not  fay,  that  he  doth  it  ill ;  but,  in  a  mighty 
little  time.  Doth  any  one  drink  a  great  Quantity 
ot  Wine  ?  Do  not  fay  that  he  doth  ill ;  but,  that 
he  drinks  a  great  Quantity.  For,  unlefs  you  per- 
fedly  underlland  the  Principle,;  [from  which  any 
one  ads],  how  fhould  you  know,  if  he  ads  ill  ? 
Thus  you  will  not  run  the  Hazard  of  alfenting  to  any 
Appearances,  but  fuch  as  you  fully  comprehend 
XLVJ. 

Never  call  your felf  a  Philofopher ;  nor  talk  a 
great  deal  among  the  Unlearned  about  Theorems; 
biit  ad  conformably  to  them.  Thus,  at  an  Enter- 
tainment, do  not  talk  how  Perfons  ought  to  eat ;  but 
eat  as  you  ought.  For  remeniber,  that  in  this  manner 
Socraies  alfo  univerfally  avoided  all  Oflentation.  And 
when  Perf^ms  came  to  him,  and  defired  to  be  re- 
comm.ended  by  him  to  Philofophers,  he  took  and 
recommended  them:  fo  well  did  he  bear  being  o^ 
verlooked.  So  that  if  ever  any  Talk  fhould  happen 
among  the  Unlearned,  concerning  [philofophic] 
Theorems,  be  you,  for  the  mofl  part  frlent.  For  there 
is  great  Danger  in  immediately  throwing  out  what 
you  have  not  digefled.  And,  if  any  one  tells  you, 
that  you  know  nothing,  and  you  are  not  nettled  at 
It,    then  you  may  be  fure,    that  you  have  begun 

your 
(a)  See  B.  IV.  c.  8.  of  the  Difcourfes, 


ne  Enchiridion.  409 

your  Bufinefs.     For  Sheep  do   not  throw  up  the 
Grafs,    to  lliow  Shepherds  how  much  they   have 
eaten  :   but,    inwardly  digefting  their  Fo(;d,  they 
outwardly  produce  Wool,  and  Milk.     Tims,  there- 
fore, do  you  likewife,  not  fliow    1  heorems   to  the 
Unlearned  ;  but  the  Adions  produced   by  them 
after  they  have  been  digefted. 
XL  VII. 
When  you  have  brought  yourfelf  to  fupply'the 
Neceiiities  of  your  Body,  at  a   fmall  Price,  do  not 
pique   yourfelf  upon  it;  nor,  if  you  drink  Water, 
be  faying  upon  every  Occafion,  "I  drink  Water.'* 
But  firft  confider,  how  much  more  fparing  and  pa- 
tient  of  Hardfhip  the  Poor  are,  thanVe.  "^Eut  if  at 
any   time  you  would  enure  yourfelf  by  Exercile  to 
Labour,  and  bearing  hard  Irials,  [do  it]  for  your 
own  Sake,  and  not  for  the  World :  do  not  grafp  {b) 
Statues ;  but,  when  you  are  violently  thirfty,  take 
a  little  cold  Water  in  your  Mouth,  and  fpurt  it  out 
and  tell  no  body.  * 

XLvin. 

The  Condition  and  Charaderiftic  of  a  Vulgar 
Perfon  is,  that  he  never  expeds  either  Benefit^or 
Hurt  from  himfelf ;  but  from  Externals.  The 
Condition  and  Charaderiflic  of  a  Philofopher  is 
tliat  he  expeds  all  Hurt  and  Benefit  from  himfelf 
1  he  Marks  of  a  Proficient  are,  that  he  cenfures  no 
one,  praifes  no  one,  blames  no  one,  accufes  no  one ; 
fays  nothing  concerning  himfelf  as  being  any  body) 
or  knowing  any  thing  :  when  he  is,  in  any  Inftance* 
hindered,  or  retrained,  he  accufes  himfelf;  and' 
if  he  IS  praifed,  he  fecretly  laughs  at  the  Perfon 
who  praifes  him  ;  and,  if  he  iscenfured,  he  makes 
no  Defence.  But  he  goes  about  with  the  Caution 
of  infirm  People  [after  Sicknefs,  or  an  Accident], 
dreading  to  move  any  thing  that  is  fet  right,  before 
jt  is  periedly  fixed.     He  fuppreffes  {c)  all  Defire  in 

himfelf: 

(h)  See  B.  III.  c.  1 2.  of  the  Difcourfes, 
(c)  Seec.  2.  Note(/^). 


4IO  *Tbe  Enchiridion. 

himfelf :  he  transfers  his  Averfion  to  thole  Things 
only,  which  thwart  the  proper  Ufe  of  our  own  Fa- 
culty of  Choice  :  the  Exertion  of  his  adlive  Powers 
towards  any  thing  is  very  gentle :  if  he  appears  flu- 
pid,  or  ignorant,  he  doth  not  care  ;  and,  in  a 
word,  he  watches  himfelf  as  an  Enemy,  and  one 
in  Ambufh. 

XLIX. 

When  any  one  (hows  himfelf  vain,  on  being  able 
to  underfland  and  interpret  the  Works  of  Chryjip-^ 
pus^  fay  to  yourfelf,  *'  Unlefs  Cbryjtppus  had  writ- 
*'  ten  obfcurely,  this  Perfon  would  have  had  no 
*'  Subject  for  his  Vanity.  But  what  do  /  defire  ? 
*^  To  underfland  Nature,  and  foUow  her.  I  afk 
**  then,  who  interprets  her ;  and,  finding  Chryjippus 
*'  doth,  I  have  Recourfe  to  him.  1  do  not  under- 
*'  fland  his  Writings.  I  feek  therefore  one  to  in- 
*'  terpret  them.'^  So  far  there  is  nothing  to  value 
myfelf  upon.  And  when  I  find  an  Interpreter, 
what  remains  is,  to  make  ufe  of  his  Inflru6tions» 
This  alone  is  the  valuable  Thing.  But,  if  I  admire 
nothing  but  merely  the  Interpretation,  what  do  I 
become  more  than  a  Grammarian,  inflead  of  a 
Philofopher .?  Except,  indeed,  that,  inflead  of 
Horner^  I  interpret  Chryftppus,  Wjien  any  one 
therefore  defires  me  to  read  Chryftppus  to  him,  I  ra- 
ther blufh,  when  I  cannot  fhow  my  Adions  agreea- 
ble, and  confonant  to  his  Difcourfe. 

L. 

Whatever  Rules  you  have  deliberately  pro- 
pofed  to  yourfelf  [for  the  Condu6l  of  Life,]  abide 
by  them,  as  fo  many  Laws,  and  as  if  you  would 
be  guilty  of  Impiety  in  tranfgrelling  any  of /them  : 
and  do  not  regard  what  any  one  fays  of  you ;  for 
this,  after  all,  is  no  Concern  of  yours.  How  long 
then  will  you  defer  to  think  yourfelf  worthy  of  the 
nobleft  Improvements,  and,  in  no  Inflance,  to  tranf^ 
grefs  the  Difliridions  of  Reafon  }  You  have  re- 
ceived the  Philofophic  Theorems,  with  which  you 

oug[>t 


The  Enchiridion.  411 

ought  to  be  converfant :  and  you  have  been  con- 
verlant  with  them.  What  other  Mailer  then  do 
you  wait  for,  to  throw  upon  that  the 'Delay  of  re- 
forming yourfelf  ?  You  are  no  longer  a  Boy  ;  but 
a  grown  Man  (^).  If  therefore  you  will  be  neo-Ji- 
gent  and  flothful,  and  always  add  ProcraflmatVoa 
to  Procraftination,  Purpofe  to  Purpofe,  and  fix 
Day  after  Day,  in  which  you  Mail  attend  to  your- 
felf; you  will  infenfibly  continue  without  Profici- 
ency, and,  living  and  dying,  perfeverein  being  one 
of  the  Vulgar.  This  inltant  then  think  yourfelf 
worthy  of  living  as  a  Man  grown  up,  and  a  Pro- 
ficient. Let  whatever  appears  to  be  the  befl,  be  to 
you  an  inviolable  Law.  And  if  any  Inllance  of 
Pain,  or  Pieafure,  or  Glory,  or  Difgrace  be  fet  be- 
fore you,  remember,  that  now  is  the  Combat,  now 
the  0/ywp/W  comes  on,  nor  can  it  be  put  off;  -and 
that,  by  once  being  worfled,  and  giving  way,'  Pro- 
ficiency is  lofl,  or  fby  the  contrary]  preferved. 
Thus  Socrates  became  perfed,  improving  himfelf 
by  every  thing ;  {e)  attending  to  nothing  but  Rea- 
fon.  And  though  you  are  not  yet  a  Socrates,  you 
ought  however  to  live  as  one  defirous  of  becoming 
a  Socrates.  ° 

LL 

^  The  firfl  and  mofl  neceffary  Topic  in  Philofophy 
IS,  that  of  the  Ufe  of  [pradical]  Theorems;  as 
that,  ^e  ought  not  to  lie:  the  fecond  is,  that  of 
Demonflrations ;  as.  Whence  it  is,  that  we  ou^ht  not 
to  he :  the  third,  that  which  gives  Strength  and 
Articulation  to  the  other  two  ;  as,  JVhence  this  is  a 
Demonjiration.     For  what  is  Demonflration  .^^  What 

is 

id)  The  fame  Words,  An^  t,;,„o?,  in  the  fame  Senfe,  are  ufed 

Bph.  ,v.  13.  (where  they  are  oppofed  to  .^.o.,  v.  ,4.       jZes 

\)  ^^r^^.'^^^^^^d^^l'o,   I  Cor.  ill.  ,.  a.s^.^....is  h;re. 
klf     Upton  '''''  '"^''^duc^z  Socr.^a  frying  thh^f  1,1^^ 


4^2  ^he  Enchiridion.- 

is  Confequence  ?  What  Contradidion  ?  What 
Truth  ?  What-  Fallhood  ?  The  third  Topic  then 
is  neceflary,  on  the  Account  of  the  fecond :  and 
the  fecond,  on  the  Account  of  the  firft.  But  the 
moft  neceffary,  and  that  whereon  we  ought  to  red, 
k  the  firfl.  But  we  ad  jull  on  the  contrary.  For 
we  fpend  all  our  Time  on  the  third  Topic,  and  em- 
ploy ail  our  Diligence  about  that,  and  entirely  ne- 
gled  the  firfl.  Therefore,  at  the  fame  time  that 
we  lie,  we  are  mighty  ready  to  fhow  how  it  is  de- 
monflrated,  that  Lying  is  not  right. 

LII. 
Upon   all  Occafions,  we  ought  to  have  thefe 
Maxims  ready  at  hand. 

Conduoi  me^  Jove,  and  Thou^  O  Defliny, 
fVbere-ever  Tour  Decrees  have  fix'd  my  Station. 
I  follow  ch  ear  fully :  and^  did  I  not^ 
Wicked  and  wretched^  I  muji  follow  ft  ill  (/), 

IVbo-e'er  yields  properly  to  Fate^  is  deervCd 
Wife  among  Men^  and  knows  the  Laws  of  Hea- 
ven (g). 

And  this  Third : 

(h)  ''  O  Crito^  if  it  thus  pleafes  the  Gods,  thus 
*^  let  it  be.  Anytus  and  Melitus  may  kill  aie  in^ 
*^  deed  :  but  hurt  me  they  cannot/' 

(f)  From  a  Poem  of  Ckanthes. 

(g)  From  Euripides. 

{k)  From  P/aio's  Crito,  and  Jpology* 


The  End  of  the  Enchiripion, 


FRAGMENTS 


O  F 


E  P  I  Cr  ETUS. 


FRAGMENTS 


O  F 


EPICTEtUS, 


FROM 

ST0BiEUS,ANT0NIUS5^WMAXIMUs(^), 

I. 

LIFE  entangled  with  Fortune,  re- 
fembles  a  wintry  Torrent :  for  it  is 
turbulent,  and  muddy,  and  difficult 
to  pafs,  and  violent  and  noify,  and 
of  fhort  Continuance. 

A  Soul 

(a)  According  to  Fabriciut^  in  his  Bihliotheca  Grdeca,  L.  V, 
C.  30.  Stohaus  was  a  Heathen  :  at  leaft,  he  cites  only  Heathen 
Authors.  He  lived  about  the  Beginning  of  the  Fifth  Century. 
Maximut  was  a  Chriftian,  of  the  Seventh  ;  and  AntoniuSy  fur- 
named  MeliJJa,  or  the  Bee,  of  the  Eighth  Century,  or  jater ; 
fome  lay,  of  the  Twelfth.  Their  Coile6tlons  are  printed  toge- 
ther. The  Editions  of  Stobceus  are  extremely  incorrect :  and 
in  him  and  MaximuSy  the  Names  of  the  Authors  quoted,  either 
were  frequently  wrong  originally,  or  have  been  altered  fince. 
This  may  have  happened  to  Antonius  alfo  :  and,  confequently, 
fome  of  the  Sr^J'ings  afcribed  to  Epi^etus  may  not  have  been  his. 
Indeed,  many  of  thefe  Fragments  have  very  little  the  Turn  of 
his  other  Difcourfes.  The  two  firfl:,  particularly,  have  a  much 
fironger  Refemblance  of  the  Style  and  Manner  of  3/.  Antoninus, 


4^6  Fragments. 

A  Soul  converfant  with  Virtue,  refembles  a  per- 
petual Fountain:  for  it  is  clear,  and  gentle,  atid 
potable,  iind  fweet,  and  communicative,  and  rich, 
and  harmleiSj  and  innocent. 

II.  -7 

If  vou  would  be  good,  fir  ft  believe  that  you  are  bad. 

in. 

It  is  better  to  offend  feldom  (owning  it  when  we 
do),  and  ad  often  wifely,  than  to  fay,  we  feldom 
err,  and  offend  frequently. 

IV. 

Chastise  your  Pallions,  that  they  may  not  pu- 
nifh  you. 

V. 

Be  not  fo  much  afhamed  of  what  is  void  of  Glo- 
ry,  as  ffudious  to  fhun  v/hatis  void  of  Truth. 
VI. 

If  you  would  be  well  fpoken  of,  learn  to  fpealc 
v/ell  of  others.  And,  when  you  have  learned  to  fpeak 
well  of  them,  endeavour  likev/i(e  to  do  well  to  them ; 
and  thus  you  will  reap  the  Fruit  of  being  well  fpok- 
en of  by  them. 

VII. 

Freedom  is  the  Name  of  Virtue ;  and  Slavery, 
of  Vice :  and  both  thefe  are  Anions  of  Choice. 
But  neither  of  them  belongs  to  Things,  in  which 
Choice  hath  no  Share.  But  Fortune  (b)  is  accuf- 
tomed  to  difpofe  at  her  Pleafure  of  the  Body,  and 
thofe  Things  relating  to  the  Body  in. which  Choice 
hath  no  Share.  For  no  one.is  a  Slave,  whole  Choice 
is  free.  Fortune  is  an  evil  Chain  to  the  Body  ;  and 
Vice,  to  the  Soul.  For  he  whofe  Body  is  unbound, 
and  whofe  Soul  is  chained,  is  a  Slave.  On  the 
contrary,  he  whofe  Body  is  chained,  and  his  Soul 
unbound,  is  free.  The  Chain  of  the  Body,  Nature 
unbinds  by  Death ;  and  Vice,  by  {c)  Money :  the 

Chain 

{h)  The  Senfe  abfolutely  requires,  that  ■^vx^  fhouldbe  rvxni 
and  it  is  ^o  tranflated. 

(f )  Perhaps,  by  bringing  a  Judge,  or  a  Jailer.  However,  the 
Senfe  is  not  clear. 


Fragments.  417 

Chain  of  the  Soul,  Virtue  unbinds,  by  Learning, 
and  Experience,  and  philofophic  Exercife. 

VIII. 
If  you  would  live  with  Tranquillity  and  Content, 
endeavour  to  have  all  who  live  with  you,  good. 
And  you  will  have  them  good,  by  inftruding  the 
Willing,  and  difmiiring  the  Unwilling  (i).  For  to- 
gether with  the  Fugitives,  will  Wickednefs  and 
Slavery  fly  :  and  with  thofe  who  remain  with  you, 
will  Goodnefs  and  Liberty  be  left. 

IX. 
(e)  It   is  fcandalous,  that  he  who  fweetens  his 
Drink  by  the  Gifts  of  the  Bees,  fhould,   by  Vice, 
embitter  Reafon,  the  Gift  of  the  Gods. 

X.  . 
No  one,  who  is  a  Lover  of  Money,  a  Lover  of 
Pleafure,  or  a  Lover  of  Glory,  is  likewife  a  Lover 
of  Mankind  :  but  only  he  who  is  a  Lover  of  Virtue. 

XL 
As  you  would  not  wifh  to  fail  in  a  large,  and 
finely  decorated,  and  gilded  Ship,  and  fmk  :  fo 
neither  is  it  eligible  to  inhabit  a  grand  and  fump- 
tuous  Houfe,  and  be  in  a  Storm  [of  PafTions  and 
Cares]. 

XII. 
When  we  are  invited  to  an  Entertainment,  we 
take  what  we  find  :  and,  if  any  one  fhould  bid  the 
Mafler  of  the  Houfe  fet  Fifh,  or  Tarts,  before  him, 
he  would  be  thought  abfurd.  Yet,  in  the  World, 
we  a(k  the  Gods  for  what  they  do  not  give  us ; 
and  that,  though  they  have  given  us  fo  many 
Things. 

E  e  XIII. 

(^  The  Tranflation  omits  tTrara  x£%«pft;/x£»ov?,  which  is  in 
Antonius  and  Maximus,  but  not  in  Stob-rus 

{e)  This  Sentence  is  afcribed  to  Pythagoras^  by  Antonius  and 
Maximus  de  rationali,     Serm.  27.  p.  75. 


ij.ig  Fragments. 

XIll. 

They  are  pretty  Fellows  Indeed,  faid  he,  whd 
value  themfelves  on  Things  not  in  our  own  Power. 
I  am  a  better  Man  than  you,  fays  one ;  for  I  have 
many  Eflates,  and  you  are  pining  with  Hunger. 
1  have  been  Conful,  fays  another :  I  am  a  Gover- 
nor, a  third;  and  I  have  a  fine  Head  of  Hair, 
fays  a  fourth.  Yet  one  Horfe  doth  not  fay  to  ano- 
ther, "  I  am  better  than  you ;  for  I  have  a  great 
"  deal  of  Hay,  and  a  great  deal  of  Oats ;  and  I 
"  have  a  Gold  Bridle,  and  embroidered  Trap- 
*'  pings:"  but,  "I  am  fwifter  than  you.'*  And 
every  Creature  is  better  or  worfe,  from  its  own  good 
or  bad  Qualities.  Is  Man,  then,  the  only  Creature, 
which  hath  no  natural  good  Quality  ?  And  mud 
we  confider  Hair,  and  Clothes,  and  Anceltors,  [to 
judge  of  him]  ? 

XIV. 

Patients  are  difpleafed  with  a  Phyfician,  who 
doth  not  prefcribe  to  them ;  and  think  he  gives 
them  over.  And  why  are  none  fo  affeded  towards 
a  Philofopher,  as  to  conclude,  he  defpairs  of  their 
Recovery  to  a  right  Way  of  Thinking,  if  he  tells 
them  nothing,  which  may  be  for  their  Good  ? 

XV. 

They  who  have  a  good  Conditution  of  Body, 
iupport  Heats  and  Colds :  and  fo  they,  who  have  a 
right  Conftitution  of  Soul,  bear  [the  Attacks  of] 
Anger,  and  Grief,  and  immoderate  Joy,  and  the 
other  Paflions. 

XVI. 

Examine  yourfelf,  whetlier  you  had  rather  be 
rich,  or  happy  :  and,  if  rich,  be  affured,  that  this 
isneither  a  Good,  nor  altogether  in  your  own  Power  : 
but,  if  happy,  that  this  is  both  a  Good,  and  in  your 
own  Power :  fince  the  one  is  a  temporary  Loan  of 
Fortune  (f ),  and  the  other  depends  on  Choice. 

XVII. 

(/)  Tu;  £:;3'af/Aoyia?  fecms  to  be  merely  an  Interpolation,  aad 
is  omitted  in  the  Tranflation. 


Fra  cMents.  419 

XVil. 

As  wlien  you  fee  a  Viper,  or  an  Afp,  or  a  Scor- 
|)ion,  in  an  Ivory  or  Gold  Box,  you  do  not  love,  or 
think  it  happy,  on  Account  of  the  Magnificence  of 
the  Materials,  in  which  it  is  inclofed ;  but  fhun 
and  deteft  it,  becaule  it  is  of  a  pernicious  Nature  : 
fb  likewife,  when  you  fee  Vice  lodged  in  the  midft 
of  Wealth,  and  the  fwelling  Pride  of  Fortune,  be 
not  flruck  by  the  Splendour  of  the  Materials,  .with 
which  it  is  furrounded  ;  but  defpife  the  bafe  Alloy 
of  its  Manners. 

XVIII. 

Riches  are  not  among  the  Number  of  Things^ 
which  are  good :  Prodigality  is  of  the  Number  of 
thofe,  which  are  evil :  Rightnefs  of  Mind,  of  thofe 
which  are  good.  Now  Rightnefs  of  Mind  invites 
to  Frugality,  and  the  Acquilition  of  Things  that  are 
good  :  but  Riches  invite  to  Prodigality,  and  feduce 
from  Rightnefs  of  Mind.  It  is  difficult  therefore  for 
a  rich  Perfon  to  be  right-minded  j  or  a  right-minded 
Perfbn,  rich  {g). 

XIX. 

{b) Just  as  if  you  had  been  bred   and 

born  in  a  Ship,  you  would  not  be  eager  to  become 
the  Pilot.  For  neither  would  the  Ship  have  any 
natural  and  perpetual  Connexion  (J)  with  you  there ; 
nor  have  Riches  here-,  but  Reafon  everywhere. 
That  therefore,  which  is  natural  and  congenial  to 
you,  Reafon,  think  likewife  to  be  in  a  peculiar 
Manner  your  own,  and  take  care  of  it. 

E  e  2  XX. 

{g)  tionv  hardly  Jball  they  that  ha've  Riches,  enter  into  the  King- 
dam  of  God  !    Mark  x.  23. 

{h)  The  former  Part  of  the  Sentence  feems  to  be  wanting  ; 
in  which,  probably,  the  Author  had  faid.  That  they  who  have 
hereditary  Wealth,  fhouid  not  think  the  Management  of  it  their 
chiefConcern:  juftas,  ^V. 

(/),  SfKfa  fhould,  perhaps,  be  cruncTrrat. 


4-20  Fragments, 

XX. 

If  you  were  born  in  Perfidy  you  would  not  en- 
deavour to  live  in  Greece ;  but  to  be  happy  in  the 
Place  where  you  are.  Why  then,  if  you  are  born 
in  Poverty,  do  you  endeavour  to  be  rich,  and  not 
to  behapDy  in  the  Condition  v/here  vou  are  ? 
XXL 

As  it  is  better  to  lie  ilraitened  for  Room  upon  a 
little  Couch  in  Health,  than  to  tofs  upon  a  wide 
Bed  in  Sicknefs  ;  fo  it  is  better  to  contradt  yourfelf 
within  the  Compafs  of  a  fmall  Fortune,  and  be 
happy,  than  to  have  a  great  one,  and  be  wretched. 
XXII. 

It  is  not  Poverty  that  caufes  Sorrow ;  but  cove- 
tous [k)  Defues:  nor  do  Riches  deliver  from  Fear; 
but  Reafoning.  If,  therefore,  you  acquire  a  Ha- 
bit of  Reafoning,  you  will  neither  defire  Riches,  nor 
complain  of  Poverty. 

XXIII. 

A  Horse  is  not  elated,  and  doth  not  value  him- 
felf  on  his  fine  Manger  or  Trappings,  or  Saddle- 
cloths ;  nor  a  Bird,  on  the  warm  Materials  of  its 
ISIeft :  but  the  former,  on  the  Swiftnefs  of  his  Feet ; 
and  the  latter,  of  its  Wings.  Do  not  you,  there- 
fore, glory  in  your  Eating,  or  Drefs;  or,  briefly, 
in  any  external  Advantage ;  but  in  Good  nature 
and  Beneficence. 

XXIV. 

There  is  a  Difference  between  living  well,  and 
living  profufely.  The  one  arifes  from  Content- 
ment, and  Order,  and  Decency,  and  Frugality  : 
the  other  from  DifTolutenefs,  and  Luxury,  and  Dif- 
order,  and  Indecency.  In  fhort,  to  the  one  belongs 
true  Praife  ;  to  the  other,  Cenfure.  If,  therefore, 
you  would  live  well,  do  not  feek  to  be  praifed  for 
j^rofufenefs: 

XXV. 

ik)  The  Latin  Tranflator  fuppofes,  that  sy0y/x»«  fhould  be 
eTTtGf^jcc,  which  the  Senfe  rtcjufres. 


Fragments.  42  i 

XXV. 

Let  the  firfl  fatisfying  of  Appetite  be  always  the 
Meafure  to  you  of  eating  and  drinking ;  and  Ap- 
petite itfelf  the  Sawce  and  the  Pleallire.  Thus 
you  will  never  take  more  [Food]  than  is  necef- 
fary,  nor  will  you  want  Cooks:  and  you  will 
be  contented  with  whatever  Drink  falls  in  your 
Way(/). 

XXVI. 

Be  careful  not  to  (m)  thrive  by  the  Meats  in 
your  Stomach ;  but  by  Chearfulnefs  in  the  Soul. 
For  the  former,  as  you  fee,  are  evacuated,  and 
carried  off  together;  but  the  latter,  though  the 
Soul  be  in)  feparated,  remains  uncorrupted,  and 
fincere. 

XXVII. 

In  every  Feaft  remember,  that  there  are  two 
Guefts  to  be  entertained,  the  Body,  and  the 
Soul :  and  that  what  you  give  the  Body,  you  pre- 
sently lofe  j  but  what  you  give  the  Soul,  remains 
for  ever. 

XXVIII. 

Do  not  mix  Anger  with  Frofufion,  and  fet  them 
before  your  Guells.  Frofufion  makes  its  Way- 
through  the  Body,  and  is  quickly  gone :  but  An- 
ger, when  it  hath  penetrated  the  Soul,  abides  for  a 
long  Time.  Take  care,  not  to  be  tranfported  with 
Anger,  and  affront  your  Guefts,  at  a  great  Ex- 
pence  ;  but  rather  delight  them  at  a  cheap  Rate, 
by  gentle  Behaviour. 

E  e  3  XXIX. 

(I)  I  have  not  tranflated  the  Fragment  which  follows  this  in 
Mr.  Upton;  becaufe  I  do  not  underftand  it. 

{m)  J  here  are  various  Readings  of  this  Fragment;  but  none 
which  makes  the  Senfe  very  clear. 

(n)  It  is  doubtful  whether  the  Meaning  be,  that  the  EfFedl 
of  a  chearful  Behaviour  will  remain  after  the  Ferfon  is  dead,  ot 
after  he  is  feparated  from  the  Company. 


42:?  Fragments. 

XXIX. 

Take  c^re  at  your  Meals,  that  the  Attendants 
be  not  more  in  Nunaber  than  thofe  whom  they  are 
to  attend.     For  it  is  abfurd,  that  many  Perfons 
fhould  wait  on  a  few  Chairs. 
XXX. 

It  would  be  befl,  if  both  while  you  are  perfon- 
ally  making  your  Preparations,  and  while  you  ar^ 
feafting  at  Table,  you  could  give  among  the  Ser^ 
yants  Part  of  what  is  before  yqu  (o).  But,  if  fuch 
a  Thing  be  difficult  at  that  Time,  remember,  that 
you,  who  are  not  weary,  are  attended  by  thofe  who 
are  \  you,  who  are  eating  and  drinking,  by  thofe 
who  are  not ;  you  who  are  talking,  by  thofe  who 
are  filent ;  you  who  are  at  Eafe,  by  thofe  who  are 
under  Conflraint  {p)  :  and  thus  you  will  never  be 
heated  into  any  unreafbnable  Paffion  yourfelf  ;•  nor 
do  any  JViifchief,  by  provoking  another. 
XXXI. 

Strife  and  Contention  are  always  abfurd  ;  but 
particularly  unbecoming  at  Table  Converfations, 
For  a  Peifon  warmed  with  Wine  will  never  ei- 
ther teach,  or  be  convinced  by,  one  who  is  fo- 
ber.  And  where-ever  Sobriety  is  wanting,  the  End 
will  fhow,  that  you  have  exerted  yourfelf  to  no 
Purpofe. 

XXXII. 

Grashoppers  are  mufical ;  but  Snails  arc 
dumb.  The  one  rejoice  in  being  wet  i  and  the  o- 
thers,  in  being  warm.  Then  the  Dew  calls  out  the 
one ;  and  for  this  they  come  forth :  but,  on  the 
contrary,  the  Noon-day  Sun  awakens  the  other ; 
and  in  this  they  fmg.     If,   therefore,  you  would 

be 

(o)  Gefyier,  for  xvQtfmg,  reads  xoivumgy  which  feems  the  beft 
Senfe,  and  is  follov/ed  m  the  Tranflation. 

(p)  There  is  fomething  itrikingly  beautiful  and  humane  in  this 
Cpnfideration  about  Servants. 


Fragments.  42j 

be  a  mufical  and  harmonious  Perlbn,  whenever,  in 
Parties  of  Drinking,  the  Soul  is  bedewed  with  Wine, 
fuffer  her  not  to  go  forth,  and  defile  herfelf.  But 
when,  in  Parties  of  Converfation,  fhe  glows  by  the 
Beams  of  Reafon,  then  command  her  to  fpeak  from 
Infpiration,  and  utter  the  Oracles  of  Juftice. 
XXXIII. 

Consider  him,  with  whom  youconverfe,  in  one 
of  thefe  three  Ways  ;  either  as  fuperior  to  you  [in 
Abilities],  or  inferior,  or  equal.  If  fuperior,  you 
ought  to  hear  him,  and  be  convinced  :  if  inferior, 
to  convince  {q)  him  :  if  equal,  to  agree  with  him  : 
and  thus  you  will  never  be  found  guilty  of  Litigi- 
oufnefs. 

XXXIV. 

It  is  better,  by  yielding  to  Truth,  to  conquer 
Opinion  ;  than  by  yielding  to  Opinion,  to  be  de- 
feated by  Truth. 

XXXV. 

If  you  feek  Truth,  you  will  not  feek  to  conquer 
by  all  poliible  Means :  and,  when  you  have  found 
Truth,  you  will  have  a  Security  againft  being  con- 
quered. 

XXXVI. 

Truth  conquers  by  itfelf  j  Opinion,  by  foreign 
Aids. 

XXXVII. 

It  is  better,  by  living  with  one  free  Perfon,  to  be 
fearlefs,  and  free,  than  to  be  a  Slave  in  Company 
with  many. 

XXXVIII. 

What  you  avoid  fuffering  yourfelf,  attempt  not 
to  impofe  on  others.  You  avoid  Slavery,  for  in- 
flance  :  take  care  not  to  enflave.  For,  if  you  can 
bear  to  exact  Slavery  from  others,  you  appear  to 
have  been  firft  yourfelf  a  Slave.  For  Vice  hath 
E  e  4  no 

(q)  AxetBeit,  probably,  fliould  he'oni^v;  and  Isfo  tranflated. 
The  ^  feems  to  have  been  added  from  the  preceding  Word. 


424  Fragments. 

no  Communication  with  Virtue  j  nor  Freedom  with 
Slavery.  As  a  jPerfon  in  Health  would  not  wifh  to 
be  attended  by  the  Sick,  nor  to  have  thofe  who 
live  with  him  be  in  a  State  of  Sicknefs  •,  fo  neither 
would  a  Perfon  who  is  free,  bear  to  be  ferved  by 
Slaves,  or  to  have  thofe  who  live  with  him  in  a 
State  of  Slavery. 

XXXIX. 
Whoever  you  are,    that  would  live  at  a  Dif- 
tance  from  Slaves,    deliver  yourfelf  from  Slavery. 
And  you  will  be  free,    if  you  deliver  yourfelf  from 
[the  Power  of]  Appetite.     For  neither  was  Arifii^ 
des  called  Juft,  nor  Epaminondas^  Divine,  nor  L>v 
curguSy    a  Preferver,    becaufe  they  were  rich,    and 
were  ferved  by  Slaves  ;    but  becaufe,    being  poor, 
they  delivered  Greece  from  Slavery. 
XL. 
If  you  would  have  your  Houfe  fecurely  inhabit- 
ed,  imitate  the  Spartan  Lycurgus.     And  as  he  did 
not  inclofe  his  City  with  Walls,   but  fortified  the 
Inhabitants  with  Virtue,    and  preferved  the  City 
always  free  ;    fo  do  you  like  wife  ;    not  furround 
yourfelf  with  a  great  Court- yard,    nor  raife  high 
Towers  ;    but  ftrengthen  thofe  that  live  with  you 
by  Benevolence,    and    Fidelity,    and  Friendfhip. 
And  thus  nothing  hurtful  will  enter,  even  if  the 
v/hole  Band  of  Wickednefs  was  fet  in  Array  a- 
gainft  it. 

XLI. 
Do  not  hang  your  Houfe  round  with  Tablets, 
and  Pidures  ;  but  adorn  it  with  Sobriety.  For 
thofe  are  merely  foreign,  and  a  (a)  fading  Decep- 
tion of  the  Eyes  :  but  this,  a  congenial,  and  inde- 
lible,  and  perpetual  Ornament  to  the  Houfe. 

XLII. 

(r)  In  Sioi^us,  the  Word  is  tinmvpf^.  Gef/ier,  whom  Mr. 

Upton  follows,  gueffed  itihould  be  sTrinp^.  2mmp<^,  which  the 

Tranflation  fuppofes,   is  a  lefs  Alteration,  aud  makes  a  proper 
Oppofition  to  what  follows. 


FrAGME  NTS.  425 

XLII. 
Instead  of  Herds  of  Oxen,  endeavour  to  aflem- 
ble  Flocks  of  Friends  about  your  Houfe. 
XLIIL 
As  a  Wolf  refembles  a  Dog,    fo  doth  a  Flatte- 
rer, and  an  Adulterer,  and  a  Parafite,    refemble  a 
Friend.     Take  heed,    therefore,    that,    inflead  of 
Guardian  Dogs,  you  do  not  inadvertently  admit  ra- 
vening Wolves. 

XLIV, 
He  is  void  of  true  Tafle,  who  flrives  to  have  his 
Houfe  admired,    by  decorating  it  with  a  fhov/ifh 
Outfide  :  but  to  adorn  our  Charaders  by  the  Gen- 
tlenefs  of  a  communicative  Temper,    is  at  once  a 
Proof  of  good  Taile,  and  -good  Nature. 
XLV. 
If  you  admire  little  Things,    in  the  firft  Place, 
you  will  never  (s)  be  thought  to  deferve  great  ones  : 
but,  if  you  defpife  little  Things,  you  will  be  great- 
ly admired, 

XLVI. 
Nothing  is  meaner  than  the  Love  of  Pleafure, 
the  Love  of  Gain,  and  Infolence.  Nothing  is  nobler 
than  Magnanimity,  Meeknefs,  and  Good-nature. 
XLVII. 
■  Producing  the  Sentiments  of  thoie  in- 

tradable  Philofophers,  who  do  not  think  [the  En- 
joyment of]  Pleafure  to  be  [in  itfelf]  the  natural 
State  of  Man  ;  but  merely  an  adventitious  Circum- 
flance  of  thofe  Things,  in  which  his  natural  State 
confifls,  Juflice,  Sobriety,  and  Freedom.  For  what 
manner  of  Reafon  then  fhould  the  Soul  rejoice,  and 
feel  a  Serenity  from  the  lefler  Good  of  the  Body,  as 
Epicurus  fays  [it  doth]  ;  and  not  be  pleafed  with  its 
.  own  Good,  which  is  the  very  greateft  ?  And  yet 
Nature  hath  given  me  likewiie  a  Seme  of  Shame  : 

and" 

(j)  UfuToy  iA.zya.>.uv  a|»a;S>)cu  is  the  Text  o^  Siohaus,  Mr.  Up- 
ton puts  in  cvK,  which  the  Tranilsrion  follows.  A7ra|«i.3n<r»)  is  a 
Tmaller  Change,  and  the  fame  Senfe. 


426  Fr  A  G  M  E  N  T  S. 

and  I  am  covered  with  Bluflies,  when  I  think  I  have 
uttered  any  indecent  Exprellion.     This  Emotion 
will  not  fuffer  me  to  lay  down  Pleafure  as  [in  itfelf  J 
a  Good,  and  the  End  of  Life. 
XLVIII. 

The  Ladies  at  Rome  have  Plato's  Republic  in 
their  Hands,  becaufe  he  allows  a  Community  of 
Wives :  for  they  attend  merely  to  the  Words  of  the 
Author,  and  not  to  his  Senfe.  For  he  doth  not  firll 
order  one  Man  and  one  Woman  to  marry  and  live 
together,  and  then  allow  a  Community  of  Wives  : 
but  he  abolifhes  that  kind  of  Marriage,  and  intro- 
duces one  of  another  kind  (/).  And,  in  general. 
Men  are  pleafed  in  finding  out  Excufes  for  their  own 
Faults.  Yet  Philofophy  fays,  it  is  not  fit  even  to 
move  a  Finger  without  fbme  Reafbn. 
XLIX. 

The  more  rarely  the  Objedts  of  Pleafure  occur, 
the  more  delightful  they  are. 

L. 

Whenever  any  one  exceeds  Moderation,  the 
moft  delightful  Things  may  become  the  moft  un- 
delightful. 

LI.  . 

Agrippinus  was  juflly  entitled  to  Praife  on  this 
Account,  that,  though  he  was  a  Man  of  the  higheft 
Worth,  he  never  praifed  himfelf;  but  blufhed, 
even  if  another  praifed  him.  And  he  was  a  Man 
of  fuch  a  Character,  as  to  write  in  Praife  of  every 
harfh  Event  that  befell  him  :  if  he  was  feverifh,  of 
a  Fever  •,  if  difgraced,  of  Difgrace  ;  if  banifhed, 
of  Banifhment.  And,  when  once,  as  he  v/as  going 
to  dine,  a  MefTenger  brought  him  word,  that  Nero 
ordered  him  to  Banifhment ;  Well  then,  fays  4' 
grippinuSy  we  will  dine  at  Aricia  {li). 

(/)  This,  and  other  fliocking  Things  in  P/tf/o'j-??<^a^//f,  fliew 
how  apt  even  wife  Men  are  tD  err,  without  a  Guide. 
^  [u)  See  Difcourles,  B.I.  c.  i. 


Fragments.  42  7 

LIT. 

Diogenes  affirmed  no  Labour  to  be  good,  un- 
iefs  the  End  was  a  due  State  and  Tone  of  the  Soul, 
and  not  of  the  Body. 

LIII. 
As  a  true  Balance  is  neither  fet  right  by  a  true 
one,  nor  judged  by  a  falfe  one  :    (w)  fo  likewife  a 
jufl  Perfon  is  neither  fet  right  byjull  Perfoas,    nor 
judged  by  unjuft  ones. 

LIV. 
As  what  is  (Iraight  hath  no  need  of  what  is 
ftraight,  fo  neither  what  is  juft,  of  what  is  jufl,  [to 
aflill  or  amend  it]. 

LV. 
Do  not  give  Judgnient ' from  another  Tribunal, 
before  you  have  been  judged  yourfelf  at  the  Tribu- 
nal of  Juflice  (x). 

LVf. 
If  you  would  give  a  jufl  Sentence,  mind  neither  . 
Parties,  nor  Pleaders  ;  but  the  Caufe  itfelf. 
LVIJ. 
You  will  commit  the  fewefl  Faults  in  judging,  if 
you  are  faultlefs  in  your  own  Life. 
LVIII. 
It  is  better,  by  giving  a  jufl  Judgment,  to  be  (y) 
blamed  by  him  who  is  defervedly  condemned,  than 
by  giving  an  unjuft  Judgment,  to  be  juftly  cenfured 
by  Nature. 

LIX. 
As  the  Touch- flone  which  tries  Gold,    is  not  it- 
felf tried  by  the  Gold  ;    fuch  is  he,    who  hath  the 
Rule  of  judging. 

LX. 
It  is  fcandalous  for  a  Judge  to  be  judged  by  others. 

LXI. 

(•w;)  Compare  this  and  the  next  Fragment  with  i  Cor.  il.  1 5. 

{x)  See  Rom.  xlv.  10. 

(y)  The  Antlthefis  feems  to  require,  that  a^u-?  fhould  be 
ai)ncu^,  and  the  Tranflation-^ — unjullly  blamed  b/  him,  who  is 
condemned. 


428  Fragments. 

LXI. 

As  nothing  is  flraighter  than  what  is  flraight,  fb 
nothing  is  julter  than  what  isjufl  (2). 
LXII. 

Who  among  you  do  not  admire  the  Adlion  of 
Lyciirgus  the  Lacedemonian?  For  when  he  had  been 
deprived  of  one  of  his  Eyes,  by  one  of  the  Citi- 
zens, and  the  People  had  dehvered  the  young  Man 
to  him,  to  be  puniihed  in  whatever  Manner  he 
(hould  think  proper  -,  Lycurgus  forbore  to  give  him 
any  Punifhment.  But,  having  intruded,  and  ren- 
dered him  a  good  Man,  he  brought  him  into  the 
Theatre  :  and,  while  the  Lacedemonians  were  ftruck 
with  Admiration ;  "  I  received,"  fays  he,  *'  this 
**  Perfon  from  you,  injurious  and  violent,  and  I  re- 
*'  flore  him  to  you  gentle,  and  a  good  Citizen.*' 
LXHI. 

When  Pittacus  had  been  unjuflly  treated  by  fbme 
Perfon,  and  had  the  Power  of  chaftifing  him,  he  let 
him  go  ;  faying,  '*  Forgivenefs  is  better  than  Pu- 
*'  nllhment :  for  the  one  is  the  Proof  of  a  gentle, 
*'  the  other  of  a  favage  Nature.*' 
LXIV. 

But,  above  all,  this  is  the  Bufmefs  of  Na- 
ture, to  conned  and  mutually  adapt  the  Exertion  of 
the  adive  Powers  {a)  to  the  Appearance  of  what  is- 
fit  and  beneficial. 

LXV. 

It  is  the  Characler  of  the  mod  mean'-fpirited  and 
foolilh  Men,  to  fuppofe  they  (hall  be  defpifed  by 
others ;  unlefs,  by  every  Method,  they  hurt  thofe 
who  are  firil  their  Enemies  (b), 

LXVI. 

,  (js)  The  Stoics  held  all  Virtues,  and  all  Faults  to  be  equal : 
and  this  Fragment  is  one  of  their  Illuftrations  of  that  Paradox. 

[a)  The  Text  has  t>55  — ^avWta? ;  but  the  true  Reading  feems 
evidently  to  be  t/j  (paflccaia. ;  and  this  the  Tranflation  fol- 
lows.^ 

(bj  To  Je  oiEcr^ai  sv)ia.rx<PpovrjTQV<;  roiq  aXAot?  scrtcT-^oci,  ^etv  w-r  rovg 
<«fp«rot5  tySpof?  iiravTi  teoiru  ^hx-^u^iVf    a(po^pcii>  otysvvuf  Hon  avoxtuv' 


Fragments.  429 

LXVI. 

When  you  are  going  to  attack  any  one  with  Ve- 
hemence and  Threatning,  remember  to  fay  firft  to 
yourlelf,  that  you  are  [by  Nature]  a  gentle  Animal, 
and  that  by  doing  nothing  violent,  you  fhall  live 
without  Repentance,  and  without  need  of  being  fet 
right. 

LXVII. 

We  ought  to  know,  that  it  is  not  eafy  for  a  Man 
to  form  a  Principle  of  Attion,  unlefs  he  daily  fpeaks 
and  hears  the  fame  Things,  and,  at  the  fame  time, 
accommodates  them  to  the  Ufe  of  Life. 
LXVI  i  I. 

NiciAs  was  fo  intent  on  Bufinefs,  that  he  often 
alked  his  Domeflics,  whether  he  had  bathed,  and 
whether  he  had  dined. 

LXIX. 

While  Archimedes  was  intent  on  his  Diagrams^ 
his  Servants  drew  him  away  by  Violence,    and  an- 
ointed (c)  him  ,    and,  after  his  Body  was  anointed, 
he  traced  his  Figures  upon  that. 
LXX. 

When  Lamps ^  the  Sea  Commander,  was  afked 
how  he  acquired  Riches  :  '*  A  great  deal,"  faid  he, 
*'  without  Difficulty,  but  a  little  with  Labour." 
LXXL 

Solon,  when  he  v/as  filent  at  an  Entertainment, 
being  alked  by  periander.,  whether  he  was  fiient  for 
want  of  Words,  or  from  Folly ;  "  No  Fool,"  an- 
fwxred  he,  *'  can  be  filent  at  a  Feail." 

Lxxir. 

ay^fuvuv.     <J)a^«f  ya^  Toy  evKccru^fovriToVy    voHaBon   [Atv  xxi  xxrx  ro 
^vvarov  nvoti   ^^a>|/a».      AXKx  'adXv  {amK\o*  vourui  Kara  to  ^vvxtov 

This  is  the  Whole  of  the  Fragment:  of  which  only  the  firft 
Part,  which  is  too  good  to  be  omitteii,  is  tranflated.  '  The  relt 
I  do  not  underftand. 

{c)  The  Ancients  anointed  the  Body  every  Day. 


30  Fragments. 

LXXII. 

Consult  nothing  fo  much,  upon  -every  Occafn 
on,  as  Safety.     Now  it  is  fafer  to  be  filent,  than  to 
fpeak  :  and  omit  fpeaking  whatever  is  not  accorri- 
panied  with  Senfe  and  Reafon. 
LXXIII. 

As  Light-houfes  in  Havens,  by  kindling  a  gre^t^ 
Flame  from  a  few  Faggots,  afford  a  confiderable 
Afliflance  to  Ships  wandering  on  the  Sea  :  fo  an  il- 
lufhrious  Perfon,  in  a  State  harrafled  by  Storms, 
while  he  is  contented  with  little  himfelf,  confers 
great  Benefits  on  his  Fellow-Citizens. 
LXXIV. 

-As  you  would  certainly,  if  you  undertook  to 

fleer  a  Ship,  learn  the  Steerfman's  Art.    For  it  will 
be  in  your  Power,  as  in  that  Cafe,  to  fteer  the  whole 
Ship  :  fo,  in  this,  the  whole  State. 
LXXV. 

If  you  have  a  mind  to  adorn  your  City  by  can- 
lecrated  Monuments,  firft  confecrate  in  yourlelf  the 
moil  beautiful  Monument  of  Gentlenefs,  and  JuP 
tice,  and  Benevolence. 

LXXVI. 

You  will  confer  the  greatefl  Benefits  on  yourCity,- 
not  by  raifing  the  Roofs,  but  by  exalting  the  Souls 
[of  your  Fellow-Citizens].  For  it  is  better,  that 
great  Souls  fhould  live  in  fmall  Habitations,  than 
that  abjed  Slaves  fhould  burrow  in  great  Houfes. 
LXXVII. 

Do  not  variegate  the  Struclure  of  your  Walls 
with  Euh^an  and  Spartan  Stone  :  but  adorn  both 
the  Minds  of  the  Citizens,  and  of  thofe  who  go- 
vern them,  by  the  Grecian  Education.  For  Cities 
are  made  good  Habitations  by  the  Sentiments  of 
thofe  who  live  in  them  ♦,  not  by  Wood  and  Stone. 
LXXVIII. 

As,  if  you  were  to  breed  Lions,  you  would  not 
be  folicitous  about  the  Magnificence  of  their  Dens, 
but  the  Qualities  of  th.e  Animals  [themfelvesj  :  fb. 


Fragments.  431 

if  you  undertake  to  prefide  over  your  Fellow-Citi- 
zens, be  not  fo  folicitous  about  the  iVlagni  rice  nee  of 
the  Buildings,  as  careful  of  the  Fortitude  of  thofe 
who  inhabit  them. 

LXXIX. 

As  a  ildlful  Manager  of  Horfes  doth  not  feed 
the  good  Colts,  and  luffer  the  unruly  ones  to  flarve ; 
but  feeds  them  both  alike  •,  only  whips  one  more, 
to  make  him  draw  equally  with  his  Fellow  :  .fo  a 
Man  of  Care,  and  Skill  in  the  Art  of  Civil  Govern- 
ment, endeavours  to  do  (d)  Good  to  the  well-dif- 
pofed  Citizens,  but  not  at  once  to  deftroy  tho(e 
that  are  otherwife.  He  by  no  means  denies  Sub- 
fiftence  to  either  of  them  :  only  he  difciplines  and 
urges  on,  with  the  greater  Vehemence,  him  who 
refifts  Reafbn  and  the  Laws. 
LXXX. 

As  neither  a  Goofe  is  alarmed  by  Gaggling,  nor 
a  Sheep  by  Bleadng,  fo  neither  be  you  terrified  by 
the  Voice  of  a  fenfelefs  Multitude. 
LXXXI. 

As  you  do  not  comply  with  a  Multitude,  when 
it  injudicioufly  alks  of  you  any  Part  of  your  own 
Property  :  fo  neither  be  difconcerted  by  a  Mob, 
when  it  endeavours  to  force  you  to  any  unjufh  Com- 
pliance. 

LXXXII. 

Pay  in,  before  you  are  called  upon,  what  is  due 
to  the  Public,  and  you  will  never  be  aflvcd  for  what 
is  not  due. 

LXXXIII. 

As  the  Sun  doth  not  wait  for  Prayers  and  Incan- 
tations, to  be  prevailed  on  to  rife,  but  immediately 
fhines  forth,  and  is  received  with  univerfal  Saluta- 
tion ;  fo  neither  do  you  wait  for  Appiaufcs,  and 
Shouts,  and  Fraifes,  in  order  to  do  Good  j  but  be 

a  vo- 

(d)  The  Latin  Verfion  fuppofes  that  '5to.«  fliouM  be  ivirun. 
This  the  Senfe  feems  to  require  ;  and  it  is  fo  tranflated. 


4?, 2  Fr  A  G  M  E  ^TT  S. 

a  voluntary  Benefactor  ;    and  you  will  be  beloved 
like  the  Sun  (e). 

LXXXIV. 

A  Ship  ought  not  to  be  fixed  by  one  Anchor; 
fior  Life  on  a  fmgle  Hope  y). 
LXXXV. 

\¥l  oudit  not  to  flretch  either  our  I_*e2;s  or  our 
HoDes  to  a  Point  they  cannot  reach. 
LXXXVI. 

Tkales,    being  ailced,  what  was  the  moft  uni- 
verjally  eiijoyed  of  all  Things,  anfwered,  ^'  Hope  : 
"  for  they  have  it,  who  have  nothing  elfe.*' 
LXXXVII. 

It  is  more  necefiary  for  the  Soul  to  be  cured, 
than  the  Body  :  for  it  is  better  to  die,  than  to  live 
ill. 

LXXXVIII. 

PvRRHoufedto  fay,  *'  There  is  no  Difference 
"  between  living  and  dying/'  A  Perfon  aiked  him, 
VvHiy  then  do  not  you  die  ?    ''  Becaufe,"  anfwered 
Pyrrhoy  "  there  is  no  Difference  (gJ-'' 
LXXXIX. 

Nature  is  admirable,  and,  zs  Xempbon  fays, 
fond  of  Life,  Hence  we  love,  and  take  Care  of 
the  Body,  which  is  of  all  Things  the  mod  unplea- 
fant  and  fqualid.  For  if  we  were  obliged,  only  for 
five  Days,  to  take  care  of  our  Neighbour's  Body, 
we  could  not  fupport  it.  For  only  confider  what 
it  would  be,  when  we  get  up  in  a  Morning,  to  wafh 
the  Teeth  of  others,  and  do  all  requifite  Offices  be- 
fides.  in  reality,  it  is  wonderful  we  fhould  love  a 
Thing,  w^hich  every  Day  dem^ands  fo  much  Atten- 
dance. I  ftufF  this  Sack,  and  then  I  empty  it 
again.     What  is  more  troublefome  ?    But  I  mufl 

obey 

(e)  This  Simile  is  peculiarly  beautiful ;  and  hath  the  Force 
of  an  Argument  in  the  Difcourfe  of  a  Stoic,  who  held  the  Sun 
to  be  animated,  and  intelligent. 

(/J  This  Fragment,  in  Stoba^us,  is  afcribed  to  Socrates. 

(g)  See  Difcourfes,  B.  I.  c.  27.     Note  (a). 


Fragments.  42j 

obey  God.  Therefore  I  flay,  and  bear  to  wafh, 
and  feed,  and  clothe  this  paultry,  miferable  Body. 
When  I  was  younger,  he  commanded  me  fome- 
thing  flill  more,  and  I  bore  it.  And  will  you  not, 
when  Nature,  which  gave  the  Body,  takes  it  away, 
bear  that?  "  I  love  it  •,"  fay  you.  Well :  this  is 
what  I  have  juft  been  obferving :  and  this  very 
Love  hath  Nature  given  you :  but  fhe  alfo  fays^ 
"  Now  let  it  go,  and  have  no  farther  Trouble." 

XC. 

When  a  young  Man  dies,  [an  old  one]  accufes 
the  Gods,  that,  at  the  Time  when  He  ought  to  be 
at  reft,  he  is  encumbered  with  the  Troubles  of  Life. 
Yet,  (^)  nevenhelefs,  when  Death  approaches,  he 
wifhes  to  hve ;  and  fends  for  the  Phyfician,  and 
intreats  him  to  omit  no  Care  or  Pains.  It  is  mar- 
vellous, that  Men  fhould  not  be  willing  either  to 
live,  or  die. 

XCL 

To  a  longer  and  worfe  Life,  a  fhorter  and  bet- 
ter is  by  all  Means  to  be  preferred  by  every  one. 
XGII. 

When  we  are  Children,  cur  Parents  deliver  us 
to  the  Care  of  a  Tutor ;  who  is  continually  to  watch 
over  us^  that  we  get  no  Hurt.  When  we  are  be- 
come ivjen,  God  delivers  us  to  the  Guaidianfhip 
of  an  implanted  Confcience.  We  ought  by  no 
means  then  to  defpife  this  Guardian :  for  it  will 
both  difpleaie  [i)  God,  and  we  Ihall  be  Enemies  to 
our  own  confcious  Principle. 
XCIII. 

Riches  ought  to  be  ufed  as  the  Materials  of  fome 
Action  ;  and  not  upon  every  Occafion  alike* 
XCIV. 

All  Men   fhould  rather  wifh  for  Virtue  than 
Wealth  ;    which  is  dangerous  to  the  Foclifh  :    for 

F  f  Vice 

[h]  Httoi/  is  dropt   out  of  the  Text,  probably,  by  Reafon 
of  the  Similitude  oi   the  next  Word  hrocv. 
(i)  ATrafEfov,  perhaps,  ihould  be  a7raf£ro»i 


434  Fragments. 

Vice  is  increafed  by  Riches.     And  in  proportion  as 
any  one  is  deftitute  of  Underftandinf^,  into  the 
more  injurious  Excefs  he  flies  out,  by  having  the 
Means  of  gratifying  the  Rage  of  his  Pleafures. 
XCV. 
What  ought  not  to  be  done,  be  not  even  fuf- 
pe6ted   [or,    entertain  not  even  a  Thought]    of 
doing  (^k). 

XCVI. 
Deliberate  much  before  you  fay  and  do  any 
thing :  for  it  v/\\\  not  be  in  your  Power  to  recall 
what  is  faid  or  done. 

XCVII. 
Every  Place  is  fafe  to  him  who  lives  with  Juf- 
tice. 

XCVIII. 
Crows  pick  out  the  Eyes  of  the  Dead,  when 
they  are  no  longer  of  any  Ufe.     But  Flatterers  de- 
ftroy  the  Soul  of  the  Living,  and  blind  its  Eyes, 
XCIX. 
The  Anger  of  a  Monkey,  and  the  Threats  of  a 
Flatterer,  deferve  equal  Regard. 

C. 
Kindly  receive  thofe,  who  are  willing  to  give 
good  Advice :  but  not  thofe,  wlio  upon  every  Oc- 
cafion  are  eager  to  flatter.  For  the  former  truly 
fee  what  is  advantageous :  but  the  latter  confider 
only  the  Opinions  of  their  Superiors  •,  and  imitate 
the  Shadows  of  Bodies,  by  nodJing  Aflfent  to  what 
they  fay. 

CI. 
A  Monitor  ought,  in  the  firfl:  place,  to  have  a 
Regard  to  the  Delicacy  and  Senfe  (/)  of  Shame  of 
the  Perfon  admonifhed.     For  they,  who  are  har- 
dened againfl  a  Blufh,  are  incorrigible. 

CII. 

(k)  This  Fragment  is  afcribed  to  Pythagoras,  Stob.  Serm.  I. 
i^l)  <i>ri{/,v)<;  In  Antonius  and  Mctpdmus  is  «tcr%v»j5.    And  it  h  (o 
tranflated  here. 


Fragments.  435 

CII. 

It  is  better  to  admonifli  than  reproach  :  for  the 
one  is  mild  and  friendly  ;  the  other,  harfli  and  af- 
fronting :  and  the  one  correds  the  Faulty  -,  the  o- 
ther  only  convicts  them. 

CHI. 
{ni)  Communicate  to  Strangers,  and  Perfbns 
in  Need,  according  to  your  Ability  (n).     For  he 
who  gives  nothing  to  the  Needy,  fhall  receive  no- 
thing in  his  own  Need. 

CIV. 
A  Person  once  brought  Clothes  to  a  Pirate, 
v/ho  had  been  call  afhore,  and  almofl  killed  by  the 
Severity  of  the  Weather  -,  then  carried  him  to  his 
Houfe,  and  furnifhed  him  with  other  Conveniences. 
Being  reproached  by  fome  Perfon,  for  doing  Good 
to  bad  People ;  "  I  have  paid  this  Regard,"  an- 
fwered  he,  "  not  to  the  Man,  but  to  human  Na- 
"  ture." 

CV. 
We  ought  not  to  chufe  every  Pleafure  :   but  that, 
which  tends  to  fomething  good. 
CVI. 
It  is  the  Character  of  a  wife  Man,  to  refill  Plea- 
fure j  and  of  a  Fool,  to  be  enflaved  by  it. 
CVII. 
In  all  Vice,  Pleafure  being  prefented  like  a  Bait, 
draws  fenfual  Minds  to  the  Hook  of  Perdition. 
CVIII. 
Chuse  rather  to  punifh  your  Appetites,  than  to 
be  punifhed  by  them, 

CIX. 
No  one  is  free,  who  doth  not  command  himfelf. 
F  f  2  ex. 

(m)  This  and  the  following  Fragment  are  from  Antonius  and 
Maximusy  and  in  the  Margin  (land  there,  Democriti,  Ifocratisy 
^  Epi^eti :  fo,  probably,  they  ought  to  be  put  in  the  fecond 
Clafs. 

(«)  The  Expreflion  in  the  Original  is  the  fame  mth  Luke 
xl.41. 


436  Fragments. 

The  Vine  bears  three  Clufters.  •  The  firft,  of 
Pleafure ;  the  fecond,  of  Intoxication  j  the  third,  of 
Outrage  {0). 

CXI. 
Do  not  talk  much  over  Wine,  to  fhow  your 
Learning :  for  your  Difcourfe  will  be  loathfome. 

CXII. 
He  is  a  Drunkard,  who  takes  more  than  three 
Glafles  :  and  though  he  be  not  drunk,  he  hath  ex- 
ceeded Moderation. 

CXIIL 
(p)  Let  Difcourfe  of  God  be  renewed  every  Day, 
preferably  to  our  Food. 

CXIV. 
Think  oftcner  of  God,  than  you  breathe. 

cxv. 

If  you  always  remember,  that  God  flandsby,  an 
Infpedor  of  whatever  you  do,  either  in  Soul  or 
Body  :  you  will  never  err,  either  in  your  Prayers  or 
Adtions  i  and  you  will  have  God  abiding  with  you. 
CXVI. 

As  it  is  pleafant  to  view  the  Sea  from  the  Shore  : 
fb  it  is  pleafant  to  one  who  hath  efcaped,  to  remem- 
ber his  paft  Labours. 

cxvir. 

The  Intention  of  the  Law  is,  to  benefit  human 
Life :  but  it  cannot,  when  Men  themfelves  chufe 
to  fufFer :  for  it  difcovers  its  proper  Virtue  in  the 
Obedient. 

CXVIII. 
As  Phyficians  are  the  Prefervers  of  the  Sick  j  fb 
are  the  Laws,  of  the  Injured. 
CXIX. 
The  juflefl  Laws  are  the  truefl. 

CXX. 

[0)  This  Saying  is  likewife  afcrlbed  to  Pythagoras, 
(/>)  Sec  Deut.  vi.  7.    P/al,  Ixxi.  15,  24.     cv.  2, 


Fra  cments.  437 

cxx. 

It  is  decent  to  yield  to  a  Law,  to  a  Governor, 
and  to  a  wifer  Man. 

CXXI. 
Things,  done  contrary  to  Law,  are  the  fame  as 
if  they  were  undone. 

CXXII. 
In  Profperity,  it  is  very  eafy  to  find  a  Friend  5 
in  Adverfity,  nothing  is  fo  difficult. 
CXXIII. 
Time  delivers  Fools  from  Grief;  and  Reafon, 
wife  Men. 

CXXIV. 
He  is  a  Man  of  SenCe,  who  doth  not  grieve  for 
what  he  hath  not ;  but  rejoices  in  what  he  hath. 
CXXV. 
Epictetus  being  afked,  how  a  Perfon  might 
grieve  his  Enemy,  anfwered,  ''  By  doing  as  well  as 
"  poflible  himfelf." 

CXXVI. 
Let  no  wife  Maneflrange  himfelf  from  the  Go- 
vernment of  the  State :  for  it  is  both  impious  to 
withdraw  from  being  uleful  to  thofe  that  need  it, 
and  cowardly  to  give  way  to  the  Worthlefs.  For  it 
is  foolifh  to  chufe  rather  to  be  governed  ill,  than  to 
govern  well. 

CXX  VII. 
Nothing  is  more  {q)  becoming  a  Governor,  than 
to  defpife  no  one,  nor  be  infolent ;  but  to  prefide 
over  all  impartially. 

cxxvin. 

Any  Perfon  may  live  happy  in  Poverty;  but 
few,  in  Wealth  and  Power.     So  great  is  the  Advan- 
tage of  Poverty,  that  no  (r)  Man,  obfervant  of  the 
Laws  of  Life,    would  change  it  for  difreputable 
Ff3  Wealth: 

{q)  A7<^o  feems  a  falfe  Reading  for  /vtaX^oy. 
(r)  If  any  one  thinks  this  Senfe  of  »o^»fAos  harlh,  or  unfuiu- 
ble,  he  may  read,  9po»^^,  prudent. 


4.38  Fragments. 

Wealth:  unlefs,  indeed,  Themiftocles^  the  Son  of 
Neochs^  the  moft  wealthy  of  the  Athenians^  in  a 
Poverty  of  Virtue,  was  better  than  Arifiides  and 
Socrates.  But  both  himfelf  and  his  Wealth  are  pe- 
fifhed,  and  without  a  Name.  For  a  bad  Man  lofes 
all  in  Death  ;  but  Virtue  is  eternal. 
CXXIX. 
[Remember]  that  fuch  is,  and  was,  and  will  be, 
the  Nature  of  the  World ;  nor  is  it  pollible  that 
Things  fhould  be  other  wife,  than  they  now  are : 
and  that  not  only  Men,  and  other  Animals  upon 
Earth,  partake  of  this  Change  and  Transformation, 
but  the  Divinities  alfo.  For  indeed  even  the  four 
Elements  are  transformed  and  changed  up  and 
down  :  and  Earth  becomes  Water,  and  Water  Air, 
and  this  again  is  transformed  into  other  Things. 
And  the  fame  Manner  of  Transformation  happens 
from  Things  above  to  thofe  below.  Whoever  en- 
deavours to  turn  his  Mind  towards  thefe  Points,  and 
perfuade  himfelf  to  receive  with  Willingnefs  what 
cannot  be  avoided,  he  will  pafs  his  Life  with  Mode- 
ration and  Harmony 

cxxx. 

He  who  is  difcontented  with  Things  prefent, 
and  allotted  by  Fortune,  is  unfkilful  in  Life.  But 
he  who  bears  them,  and  the  Confequences  arifmg 
from  them,  nobly  and  rationally,  is  worthy  to  be 
eileemed  a  good  Man. 

CXXXI. 

All  Things  obey,  and  are  fublervient  to,  the 
World  (u) ;  the  Earth,  the  Sea,  the  Sun,  and  other 
Stars,  and  the  Plants  and  Animals  of  the  Earth.  Our 
Body  likewife  obeys  it,  in  being  fick,  and  well,  and 
young,  and  old,  and  paffing  thro'  the  other  Changes, 
whenever  That  decrees.     It  is  therefore  reafonable<^ 

that 


(u)  The  Stoics  often  confound  the  Idea  of  God  with  that 
of  the  World. 


Jb   RAGMENTS.  439 

that  what  depends  on  oiirfelves,  that  is,  our  Judg- 
ment, fhould  not  be  the  only  Rebel  to  it.  For  the 
World  is  powerful,  and  fuperior,  and  confults  the 
bell  for  us,  by  governing  us  in  Conjundion  with  the 
Whole.  Farther  :  Oppofition,  befides  that  it  is  un- 
reafonable,  and  produces  nothing  except  a  vain 
Struggle,  throws  us  likewife  into  Pain  and  Sor- 
rows. 


Ff  4 


fhe 


44P  Fl^AGMENTS. 

(a)  The  following  FRAGMENTS 
are  afcribed  jointly  to  Epictetus 
and  other  Authors. 

I. 

CONTENTMENT,  as  it  is  a  fhort  and  de^ 
Hghtful  Way,  hath   much  Gracefulnefs  and 
little  Trouble. 

II. 
Fortify  yourfelf  with  Contentment :  for  this  is 
an  impregnable  Fortrefs. 

III. 
Prefer  nothing  to  Truth,  not  even  the  Choice 
of  Friendfhip,  lying  within  the  Pleach  of  the  Paf^ 
fions  :  for  by  them  JufVice  is  both  confounded  and 
darkened. 

IV. 
Truth  is  an  immortal  and  an  eternal  Thing. 
It  beftows,  not  a  Beauty  which  Time  will  wither, 
nor  a  Boldnefs  of  which  the  Sentence  of  a  Judge 
can  (b)  deprive  us  ^  but  [the  Knowledge  of]  what 
is  juft   and  lawful,  diflinguifhing  from  them,  and 
confuting,  what  is  unjuil. 
.V. 
We  fhould  have   neither  a  blunt  Sword,  nor  an 
(c)  inefFcdual  Boldnefs  of  Speech. 

Vf. 
Nature  has  given  Man  one  Tongue,   but  two 
Ears,  that  v/e  may  hear  twice  as  much  as  we  fpeak. 

VIL 

[a)  I  have  followed  Mr.  Upton's  Divifion  :  but  many  Frag- 
ments in  the  foregoing  Clafs  properly  belong  to  this. 

{b)  A(ponpBi  TTiv,  probably,  fhould  be  u^uifirrif,  and  is  (6  tran- 

(0  This  faying  is  afciibed  by  Stoheeus  to  Socrates.  ArxKrov,  dif- 
orderly,  is  there  «9r^«xToy,  ineffe6tuai :    which  I  have  preferred. 


Fragments,  441 

Vfl. 

Nothing  is  in  reality  either  pleafant  or  unplea- 
fant  by  Nature;  but  all  Things  are  effedled  by 
Cuflom. 

VIII. 
Chu8e  the  bed  Life:  for  Cudom  will  make  it 
pleafant. 

IX. 
Chuse  rather  to  leave  your  Children  well  in- 
flruded,  than  rich.     For  the  Hopes  of  the  Learned 
are  better  than  the  Riches  of  the  Ignorant. 

X. 
ADAUGHTERisa  Pofleirion  to  a  Father  ;  which 
is  not  his  own. 

.       XI. 
The  fame  Perfbn  advifed  the  Leaving  Modefly 
to  Children,  rather  than  Gold. 
XII. 
The  Reproach  of  a  Father  is  an  agreeable  Me- 
dicine :  for  the  Profit  is  greater  than  the  Pain. 
XIII. 
He  who  fucceeds  in  a  Son-in-Law,  finds  a  Son : 
he  who  fails  in  one,  lofes  like  wife  a  Daughter. 
XIV. 
The  Worth  of  Learning,  like  that  of  Gold,  is 
efteemed  in  every  Place. 

XV. 
He  who  exercifes  Wifdom,  exercifes  the  Know- 
ledge of  God. 

XVI. 
There   is  no  Animal   fo  beautiful,  as   a  Man 
adorned  by  Learning. 

XVII. 
We  ought  to  fly  the  Friendfhip  of  the  Wicked, 
and  the  Enmity  of  the  Good. 
XVIII. 
Necessitous  Circumftances  prove  Friends,  and 
detect  Enemies, 

XIX. 


442  Fragments. 

XIX. 

We  ought  to  do  well  by  our  Friends,  when  they 
are  prefent ;  and  ipeak  well  of  them,  when  they 
are  abfent. 

XX. 
Let  not  him  think  he  is  loved  by  any,  who  loves 
none. 

XXI. 
We  ought  to  chufe  both  a  Phyfician  and  a  Friend, 
not  the  moft  agreeable,  but  the  moft  ufeful. 
XXII. 
If  you  would  lead  a  Life  without  Sorrow,  confi- 
der  Things  which  will  happen,  as  if  they  had  al- 
ready happened. 

XXIII. 
Be  exempt  from  Grief;  not  like  irrational  Crea- 
tures, from  Infenfibility  ;  nor  from  Inconfiderate- 
nefs,  like  Fools  :  but  like  a  Man  of  Virtue,  making 
Reafon  the  Remedy  for  Grief. 
XXIV. 
They  whofe  Minds  are  the  leflfl:  grieved  by  Ca- 
lamities, and  whofe   Adions  flruggle  the  moft  a- 
gainft  them,  are  the  greateft  both  in  public  and  in 
private  Life. 

XXV. 
They  who  are  well  inftruded,  like  thofe  who 
are  exercifed  in  the  PaUJlra^  if  they  happen  to  fall, 
quickly  and  dextroudy  rife  again  from  Misfortunes. 
XXVI. 
We  ought  to  call  in  Reafon,  like  a  good  Phyfi- 
cian, to  our  AlTiftance  in  Misfortunes. 
XXVII. 
A  Fool  intoxicated  by  a  long  Courfe  of  good  For- 
tune, as  by  one  of  Drinking,  becomes  more  fenfe* 
iefs. 

xxvm. 

Envy  is  the  Adverfary  of  the  Fortunate. 

XXIX; 


FrAGME  NTS.  443 

XXIX. 

He  who  remembers  what  Man  is,  is  difcontented 
at  nothing  which  happens. 

XXX. 
A  Pilot  and  a  fair  Wind  are  neceflary  to  a  hap- 
py Voyage :  Reafon  and  Art,  to  a  happy  Life. 
XXXI. 
Good  Fortune,  Hke  ripe  Fruit,  ought  to  be  en- 
joyed while  it  is  prefent. 

XXXII. 
He  is  unreafonable,  who  is  difpleafed  at  Events, 
which  happen  from  natural  Neceflity, 


The 


444  Fr  AGM  E  NTS. 

7he  following  FRAGMEN  TS /^r^ 

omitted  by  Mr.  Upton  :  but  as  they 
Jland  under  the  Name  ^/ Arrian, 
and  feem  to  he  in  the  Spirit  of  E?ic- 
TETUs,  they  are  added  here. 

I. 

(a)  TT  THAT  does  it  fignify  to  me,  fays  he, 
W  whether  the  Univerfe  is  compofed  of  A- 
toms  or  (b)  uncompoiinded  Subftances,  or  of  Fire 
and  Earth  ?  Is  it  not  fufficient  to  know  the  EfTence 
of  Good  and  Evil,  and  the  proper  Bounds  of  the 
Defires  and  Averfions  -,  and,  befides  thofe,  of  the 
adtive  Powers ;  and  by  the  making  ufe  of  thefe  as 
fo  many  certain  Rules,  to  order  the  Condud  of 
Life,  and  bid  thefe  Things,  which  are  above  us, 
farewell  :  which,  perhaps,  are  incomprehenfible 
to  human  Underflanding :  biit,  if  one  fhould 
fjppofe  them  ever  fo  comprehenfible,  ftill,  what 
is  the  Benefit  of  them,-  when  comprehended  ? 
And  mud  it  not  be  faid,  that  He  gives  Him- 
felf  Trouble  to  no  Purpofe,  who  allots  thefe 
Things  as  neceffary  to  the  Charadter  of  a  Fhilofb- 
pher. *'  What  then,  is  the  Delphic  Admoni- 
tion, K.now  ^hyfelf^  fuperfluous  ?" "  No,  furely, 

*'  fays  he."-* "  What  then  doth  it  mean  ?"  If 

any  one  fhould  admonifh  a  Performer  in  a  Chorus 
to  know  himjelf^  would  not  he  attend  to  it  as  a  Di- 

xe^flion  about  his  (r)  Motions 

II. 

[a)  Stob.  de  Diis  ^  Thyfwl.  Serm.  21 1.  p.  714.  Ed.  Franco/, 
1581. 

{b)  I  have  tranflated  a/xEfwv  as  it  (lands  in  the  Text ;  but,  pof- 
fibly,  it  might  originally  be  no  more  than  a  marginal  Interpreta- 
tion of  «TQ/Ai)i',  changing  the  Full  Point  into  a  Comma;  or,  ac- 
cording 10  G^fr  s  Tranilation,  a  Corruption  of  o;xo»o/AEp«». 

[c)  The  Sentence  feems  imperfect. 


Fragments.  445 

II. 

(d)  The  fame  Perfon  being  afked,  Wherein  the 
Diligent  have  the  Advantage  of  the  Slothful  ?  an- 
fvvered.  Wherein  the  Pious  have  the  Advantage  of 
the  Impious ;  in  good  Hopes. 

111. 

(e)  Walls  give  to  Cities,  and  Cultivation  of 
the  Underftanding  to  Minds,  Ornament  and  Se- 
curity. 

IV. 

(/)  When  a  young  Man  was  giving  himfelf 
Airs  in  a  public  Place ;  and  faying,  that  he  was 
grown  wife,  by  converging  with  many  wife  Men  ; 
I  have  converfed  too,  anfvvered  fomebody,  with 
many  rich  Men,  but  I  am  .not  grown  rich. 

V. 

(g)  Socrates,  being  fent  for  by  (b)  Jrchelam^ 
as  defigning  to  make  him  a  rich  Man,  returned 
him  this  Anfwer  :  '*  Four  Quarts  of  Meal  are  fold 
"  at  y^ibm  for  five  Farthings,  and  the  Fountains 
"  run  with  Water.  If  what  I  have  is  not  fuffici- 
**  ent  for  me,  yet  I  am  fufficiently  able  to  make  a 
*'  fhiftwith  that;  and  thus  it  becomes  fufficient 

for  me.  Do  not  you  perceive,  that  it  makes  no 
*'  Difference  in  the  Goodnefs  of  Polus  [the  Player's] 
"  Voice,  whether  he  performs  the  Part  of  Oedipus 
*'  in  his  regal  State,  or  when  he  is  a  Wanderer, 
"  and  a  Beggar  at  Coloms  F     And  Ihall  a  brave 

"  Man 

(d)  Maxtmusy  'rci^%  (ph'hoiroviet<;y     Serm.  1 18.  p.  374. 

(e)  Ant.  &  Max.  de  difciplind.     Serm.  210.  p.  704. 

(f)  Ibid. 

(g)  Stobausy  Compar.  Paupertatis  &  DiiHtiarum.  Serm 
237.  p.  778. 

{h)  Archelaiis,  the  Philofopher,  was  the  Mafter  of  Socrates  : 
but  the  Perfon  here  mentioned  was  King  ofMacedon,  who  vainly 
endeavoured  to  get  Socrates  to  his  Court.  The  Envy  o^ Arifto- 
p^anesupon  this  Occafion  is  faid  to  have  produced  that  infamous 
Piece  of  Scurihty  and  Buffoonery  his  Comedy  of  the  Clouds.  See 
BayUy  in  {he  Article  Archelaus. 


446  Fragments. 

*'  Man  appear  worfe  than  Polus^  and  not  perform 
"  well  in  whatever  Perfonage  is  impofed  upon  him 
*'  by  the  Deity  ?  Shall  he  not  imitate  Vlyjfes^  who 
*'  made  no  worfe  Figure  in  Rags  than  in  a  fine  pur- 

"  pie  Robe  (0?'' 

VI. 

There  are  fome  Perfons  who  are  calmly  of  a 
high  Spirit,  and  do  all  the  fame  Things  quietly, 
and  as  it  were  without  Anger,  which  thofe  do  who 
are  hurried  with  ftrong  Palfion.  We  are  to  guard, 
therefore,  againfh  the  Faults  of  fuch  Perfons,  as 
being  much  worfe  than  that  of  violent  Anger.  For 
People  of  the  latter  Charadter  are  quickly  fatiated 
with  Vengeance ;  whereas  the  others  extend  it  to  a 
longer  Time,  like  Perfons  in  a  flow  Fever. 

(i)  Stohaus,     ^od  EventuSy  8cc,  p.  324.     329. 


INDEX. 


INDEX. 


ytCADEMICS,  deny  the  Evidence  of  the  Senfc;, 
yj       B.  II.  c.  XX.  §.6. 

Adultery  reproved,  II.  Iv.  §.  1,2. 
Affe^iion,  not  inconfiftent  with  Reafon,  I.  xi.  §.  2.— — - 

how  to  be  regulated.  III.  xxiv.  §.  4. when  mif- 

called,  ibid. 
Agrippinus.     His  Behaviour  about  his  Trial,  I.  i.  §.  8. . 

His  Anfwer  to  Florus,  I.  ii.  §.  3. 
Anger  reproved,  II.  xviii.  §.3. 
Appearances  to  the  Mind,  a  right  Ufe  of  them  in  our  own 

Power,  I.  i.  §.  2. the  Standard  of  Atlion,  I.  xxviii 

§.2. 
Jrchedemusy  II.  iv.  §.  2.     xvii.  §.  4.    xix.  §.  I.    III.  ii.  §.  ^. 
Attention  recommended,  IV.  xii. 

B 

Beauty^  Human,  confiils  in  human  Excellence,  B.  III.  c.  I. 

§.  I. '  in  the  rational  Part,  ih.  §.  ^. 

i?^fl[y,  dependent  on  Externals  I.  i.  §.  2.    III.  xxii.  §.  5.  IV. 


§  II,  12.  14. 
IV.  i.  §.12. 


•Clay,  I.  i.  §.  3.     111.  xxii.  §.    5. 


-our  laft  Garment,  I.  xxv.  §.  3. 
compared  to  an  Afs,  IV.  i.  §.  11. 

C 

Caution  confident  with  Courage,  B.  II.  c.  i.  §.  i,  8'r. 

neceflary  in  Things  dependent  en  Choice.  II.  i.  §.  4. 
CharuSier  to  be  preferved,  I.  ii.  §.  3.  7.     H.  ii.  §.  3. 
Choice  uncontroulable  by  Jupiter  himfelf,  I.  i.  §.  6. 


incapable  of  Reftraint,  i.  xvii,  §.  2.     xxii.  §.  2    III  xix 


t      N      D      E      X. 

§.  i. -in  our  own  Power,  II.  v.  §.  r.- -Is  Virtwe 

and  Vice;  Happinefs  and  Unhappinefs,  II.  xxiii.  $.  i,  2. 
Cbryftppus,  I.  iv.  Note  (b).     11.  vi.  §.  2.  xvii.  §.  3.  xix.  §. 

I.    III.  ii.  §.  5.  xxi.  §.  i. why  ufeful,  I.  iv.  ^.  5. 

xvii.  §.2. 
Cleanthcs,  III.  xXvi.  Note  (c).     IV.  i.  f.  19. 
Complaifance  to  be  conduced  with  Caution,  III.  xvi.  §.  i. 

IV.  ii. 
Common  Senfe  what,  III.  vi.  §.  3, 
Company  a  Feftival,  I.  xii.  §.2.     IV.  iv.  $.  3. 
Conceit  reproved,  II.  xi.  §.  i.     xvii.  §.  i.  4.  III.  ii.  §.4.  xlv. 

§■4. 
Cententment  recommended,  I.  i.  j.  5.     ix.  §.  4.  IV.  iv.  §.  6. 

vii.  §.  3. 
Cratesy  III.  xxii.  Note  ('wj. 

D 

£>^^/Z>  to  be  encountered  chearfully,  B.  I.  c.  i.  §.  6. a 

Reftitution  of  what  is  not  our  own,  I.  i.  §.  9.— no 
Evil,  I.  ix.  §.  3.     xxiv.  §.  I.    xxvii.  %.  i.     III.  vili.  §.  i. 

X.  §.  2. a  Vizard,  II.  i.  ^.  3.— — a  Return  to  the 

Elements,  III.  xlii.  §.  i.     IV.  vii.  §.  3. only  the  Se- 
paration of  Soul  and  Body,  III.  xxii  §.  4. a  Lofs  of 

perfonal  Exiftence,  III.  xxiv.  ^.  5. — not  terrible,  Ench^ 

c.  V. ^to  be  placed  continually  before  our  Eyes,  Ench. 

c.  xxi. 

Demetrius y  his  Speech  to  "Nero^  I.  xxv.  §.3. 

Deftres  in  our  own  Power,  I.  i.  §.  3.     II.  ii.  §.  r.     Ench.  c. 

i. are  to  be  fupprefied  by  a  Beginner  in  Philofophy, 

I.  iv.  §    I.     III.  xiii.  §  3.  xxii.  §.  2.     IV.  iv.  §.  2,  3. 
Ench.  c.  ii. 

Determinations  not  all  to  be  kept,  II.  xv. 

Difficulties  their  Ufe,  I.  xxiv.  §.  r. 

Diffidence,  faulty,  reproved,  III.  xiv.  §.  4. 

Diogenes  taken  for  a  Spy^  I.  xxiv.  Note  (c).     III.  xxii.  §.3. 
■his  Anfwer  to  one  who  defired  recommendatory 

Letters,  II.  iii.   §.    i. taken  by  Pyrates,  II.  xiii. 

Note  (r). his  Behaviour  in  a  Fever,  III.  xxii.  §.  6. 

—his  Quicknefs  in  Rapartee,  III.  xxii.  §.  12." 

his  Benevolence,  III.  xxiv.  §.  4. Iiis  Notion  of  Free- 
dom, III.  xxiv.  §.  4.     IV.  i.  i  6.  13.  17. 

Difconient  reproved,  I.  vi.  §.6.     xii.  §.  2.     II.  xvi.  §.  2- 
IV.  i.  §.  12.  iv.  §.  3.     Frag.  xii. 

Dif.Qurfe,  indecent,  to  be  avoided,  Ench.  xxxiii. 
'      ^  Dif- 


INDEX. 

Dljlrujl  in  Providence  reproved,  I.  ix.  §.  2.    III.  xxvi.  §.  r. 
Divination,  ill  EfFe6i:s  of  an  nnreaibnable  Regard  to  it,  11. 

vii.  §.  I. The  proper  Difpofition  in  applying  to  it, 

ib.  §.     Ench.  c.  xxxii. 
Duty,  filial,  recommended.  III.  vii.  §,  3,    Ench.c.  xxx. 

E. 

Education^  why  neceflary,  B.  I.  c.  ii.  §.  2. — in  what  it 

confifls,  II.  xxii.  §.  2.     IV.  v.  §.  i. what  the  Stoics 

meant  by  it,  II.  i.  Note  [b). 

Egotifm  to  be  avoided,  Ench.  c  xxxiii. 

Elocution  the  Gift  of  God,  II.  xxiii.  §.  i. ^ufeful,  but 

not  principally  fo,  II.  xxiii.  §.  2. 

Envy  reproved.  III.  ii.  §.  4.  6. 

Ejbapbroditus,  I.  i.  §.  5.     I.  xix.  §.  3.      I.  xxvi.  §.  2. 

Epicurus  placed  the  Good  of  Man  in  Body,  I.  xx.   xxiii.  5. 

I.     III.  vii.  §.  I. forbad  Marriage,  and  the  Care 

of  Children,  and  engaging  in  the  Service  of  the  Public, 
I.  xxiii.  §.  I.  III.  vii.  §.  2. denied  the  natural  Re- 
lation of  Mankind  to  each  other,  II.  xx.  §.  2. taught 

Irreligion  and  Injuftice,  II.  xx.  §.  4.' did  not  pro- 
nounce Stealing  to  be  evil.  III.  vii.  §.  i. his  Princi- 
ples wicked,  pernicious,  and  lead  to  Opprefllon,  Adultery, 
and  Murder,  III.  vii.  §.  1.2. 

Error,  all,  involuntary,  I.  xvii.  §.  2.  xviii.  5-  i.  II.  xxvi. 
§.  I.     Ench.  c.  xlii. 

£w7confifts  in  a  bad  Choice,  II.  i.  §.  i, a  mereNega- 

gation,  Ench.  c.  xxvii. 

Euphrates,  the  Philofopher,  III.  xv.  §.  i.     IV.  viii.  §.  4. 

Externals  not  in  our  own  Power,  I.  xxii.  §.  2.     II.  v.  §.  i, 

^c, Materials  to  the  Faculty  of  Choice,  I.  xxix.  §, 

I. not  to  be  treated  carelefsly,  II.  v.  §.  2. 


Fancy,  the  Guide  of  Madmen,  B.  I.  c  xxviii.  §.  v. 

Fates,  I.  xii.  §.  2. 

Florus,  I.  ii.  §.  3. 

FriendP)ip  to  be  met  with  only  in  Prudence  and  Virtue,  XL 

xxii.  §.1.4.  Frag.  x. impolTible  in  a  bad  Man, 

II.  xxii.  §.  3.  5- 

G. 

Galba,  B.  III.  c.  xvii. 

Galileans,  IV.  vii.  §.  2.  Note  (a), 

G  §  QOD 


INDEX. 

GOD  the  uhiverfal  Father  and  Creator,  I.  iii.  §.  i.  ix.  Ji 

1.  II.  viii.  §.  3.— -is  ornniprefent  and  omnifcient,  L 
xiv.  §.1,2.     II.  xlv.  §.  2.  doth  not  negled  the  fmalleft 

Things,  III.  xxiv.  §.  6. our  Faculties  and  Abilities 

his  Gift,  I.  V\.  §.  6.     II  xxiii.  §.  i.— wherein  corf- 

fifts  His  Effence,  II.  viii.  §.  i. makes  Revelations 

to  Mankind,  III.  i.  §.  7. the  Author  of  all  we  en- 
joy, I.  xvi.  §.  3.     II.  xxiii.  §.  I.     IV.  i.  §.  12.- -» 

Dependence  on  Him  recommended,  II.  xix.  §.  3.—- — To 
be  thanked  for  the  Inftruftions  we  receive  from  wife  and 

good  Men,  I.  iv.  §.  5. for  moral  Improvement,  II. 

xviii.  §.  3. — propofed  to  our  Imitation.  See  Imitation. — ^ 
made  all  Men  to  be  happy,  arid  hath  put  Happinefs  in 
our  own  Power,  I.  xxix.  §.  i.  III.  xxiv.  §.  i. — ^to  be^ 
confulted  in  our  Undertakings,  III.  xxii.  §.  6. 

God,     See  Jupiter. 

Godsy  different  Opinions  concerning  them,  I.xii.  §.  r. 

Good  to  be  fought  from  ourfelves,  I.  xxix.  §.  i.  III.  xxii. 
^.  ^.,.  ..the  univerfal  Motive  of  Adion.     III.  iii.  §i 

^. ..in  our  own  Power,  I.  xxix.  §.  6.     III.  iii.  §.  ii 

^ ■' — confifts  in  Choice,  I.  xxx.     II.  xvi,  §.  i .  xxiii.  §. 

2.  III.  x.  §.  2.——  not  in  Externals,  III.  xx.  f.  i. 
xxii.  §.4. 

Grief,     Rebellion  againfl  God,  III.  xXiv.  §.  1; 

M. 

Health.    Not  a  Good,  B.  III.  c.  x.  §.  2.     xx.  §.  i.' 

Helvidius  Prifcus,  I.  ii.  §.  4,  5. 

Hermesy  (Rod  of)  III.xx.  §.  i. 

Hippocrates^  I.  viii.  §.  i. 

Humility  recommended,  E n  c  h  .  c.  xxxiti.    Fr  a  c .  nr. 

I. 

Imitation  of  God,  B.  II.  c.  xiv.  §   2.     xvi.  §.  4.- -of 

good  Men,  II.  xviii.  §.4,  5.  xix.  §.  3.  III.  xxiv.  §.  i, 
Ench.  c.  xxxiii. 

Improvement,  in  what  to  be  fought,  I.  iv,  §.  3, 4.  HI.  vi,  $.  I. 

Indujlry,  wherein  it  confifts,  IV.  iv.  §.  5. 

Italicus,  III.  viii.  §.3. 

Jupiter^  I.  i.  §.  3,  4.  6.     xii.  §.  2.     See  CO  i>.= 

L. 

Lattranus,  Plautius,  B.  I.  c.  I.  §.  5. 
Laugbtn  reproved,  Ench.  c.  xxxiiv. 


INDEX. 

faaw  (^divine)  what,  II.  xvl.  §.  3.     III.  xi.  §.  r.     xxlv.  §.  7,, 

l^ejbius,  III.  XX. 

Life  a.  Thing  indifferent,  II.  vi.  §.  i. 

JLogic,  its  Ufe,  L  vii.     I.  xvii.  §.  i. 

JLov^y  cpnfiftent  pnly  with  Prudence,  IL  xxii,  §.  I. 

M. 

Man,  a  Spe6lator  and  Interpreter  of  the  Works  of  God,  B. 

I.  c.  vi.   §.  4. not  made  for  an  ina6live  Life,  I.  x. 

§.  2. his  Good  confifts  in  a  due  Regulation  of  the 

Choice,  I.  viii.  §.  2.  xxv.  §.  i. — is  poffeffed  of  free  Will, 

I.  xvii.  §.  2.     xix.  §.  2. Part  of  a  Commonwealth, 

II.  V.  §.  4.    X.  §.  I.     IV.  vii.  §.  2. how  preferved 

and  how  deftroyed,  II.  ix.  §.  2  — his  End  to  follow  God, 

I.  XXX. formed  to  change  his  Abode,   III.  xxiv.  §. 

1. — his  Nature  gentle,  fociable,  and  faithful,  IV.  i.  §.  13, 
V.  §.  2.     Man  not  the  MafterofMan,  IV.  i.  §.  12. 

Marriage  inconfiftent  with  the  Cynic  ProfefTion,  III.  xxii, 

§.  8. recommended,  III.  vii.  §.  3     xxi.  §.  i. 

Majier,  who,  I.  xxix.  §.  9.     II.  ii,  §.  4,   Ench.  C.  xiv. 

M-a^/wz/f,  III.  vii.  §.  I. 

Money,  not  a  Good,  II.  xvi.  §.  i. 

N. 
Neatnefs  recommended,  B.  III.  c.  I.  f  7.     IV,  xl.  j.  I.  3, 
Nero,  i.  i.  §.  5.     ii.  §.3, 

O. 

Ofleniation  reproved,  B.  III.  c.  xii.  §.  I.  5.  xiv.  §.  2.  xxiii. 
§.  I,  2.  xxiv.  f  7.     Ench.  c.  xlvi,  xlvii. 

P. 

Patience  the  Gift  of  God,  B.  I.  c  vi.  i  5.  II.  xvi  §.  2.  IIL 

viii.  §.  2. 
Philofopbers^  what  they  ought  to  ftudy,  I.  i.  §.  6.     xx.  §.  r. 

II.  xiv.  §.  2.  III.  X.  §.  2. — how  treated,  II.  xii.  §.  2.  III. 
viii.  §.  3.  Ench.  c.  xxii. 

Plato,  I.  viii.§.  I.    II.  xvii.  §.  i,  2.— direas  Prayer,  II. 

xviii.  §.  4.— his  Notion  gf  a  Community  of  Wives, 

FRAG.xlviii. 
Pleafure  not  a  Good;^  II.  xi,  §.  3.-ran  Attendant  ou  V  irtue, 

III.  vii.  §3. 

P^/fw^,  Iir.i.Note(c).  ^^  „r    •  ;p 

jPo7;^r/y  not  an  Evil,  III.  xvn.  §.  r.     IV.  vi.  §.  r. 
iraur  recommended,  II.  xviii.  §.  4,  5.    III.  xaHv§.  r. 
•     ■  G  g  2  '^'''^r 


I      N      D      EX. 

Principles  not  dependent  on  Externals,  I.  xi.  §.  3. — the  fu- 
premeRule  of  Action,  I.  xviii.  §.  i.     HI.  ix.  §.  i. 

Procraftination  reproved.     Ench.  c.  1. 

Providence^  Inflances  of  its  Wifdom  and  Goodnefs,  I.  vl. 

§.  I,  2,  3. — 'Thofe  Inftances  Proofs  of  a  God,  Id.-- 

Gives  ihebeft  Things  to  thebeft  Men,  III.  xvii.  §.  i. 

PJeudomenoi,  II.  xvii.  Note  [d). 

Pyrrho,  I.  xxvii.  Note  [a). 

Pyrrhonijii  ridiculed,  I.  xxvii.  §.  2. 

CL 

^mrrelling  reproved,  B.  IV.  c.  v.  §.  i,  2. 

R. 

Reafon  equal  in  Gods  and  Men,  B.  I.  c.  xil.  §.  2. — contem- 
plates itfelf,  I.  XX.  §.  1. — appointed  to  a  proper  \J{e  of 
the  Appearances  of  Things,  I.  xx.  §.  i. 

Reftgnation  recommended,  I.  i.  §.  5.  II.  xvi.  S-  3-  IV.  i.  J.  12. 

Revenge  reproved,  II.  x.  §.5. 

Riches  not  a  Good,  Frag.  xvi.  xviii. 

Rufusy  I.  ix.  §.  8.  III.  vi.  §.  4.  xvii.  xxiii.  §.  i.— his  An- 
fwer  to  Thrafeas,  I.  i.  §.  7. — '- to  Epi^etuSy  I.  vii.  §.  4. 

S. 

Self-Interefl  the  univcrfal  Motive  of  Adion,  B.  I.  c.  xlx.  §.  2. 
— natural,  I.  xxii.  §.  3.  II.  xxii.  §.  1. — —the  Ground  of 
Piety,  I.  xxvii.  §.  i.  11.  xxii.  §.  2.  Ench.  c.  xxxi. 

Sceptics  ridiculed,  I.  xxvii.  \-  2. 

Servants.     Humanity  to  them,  Frag.  xxx. 

Shame,  (falfe)  reproved,  III.  xxiv.  §.  7.     xxvl.  5.  i. 

Sicknefs  not  an  Evil,  III.  xx.  §.  I.— its  Ufe,  III.  xx.  $.  i.— 
no  Impediment  to  the  Mind,  Ench.  c.  ix. 

Socrates,  hisRefignation  to  the  divine  Will,  I.  iv.  ^.  4. 

a  Citizen  of  the  World,  I.  ix.  §.  i.— his  Speech  to  his 
Judges,  I.  ix.  §.  5.  III.  i.  §.  4.  xxiii.  §.  i.— began  by  the 
Examination  of  Words,  I.  xvii.  §.  i  — always  preferved 
the  fame  Countenance,  I.  xxv,  §.  4.- forbids  an  un- 
examined Life,  I.  xxvi,  §.  3.  Ill-  xii.  §.  4.— his  Excufe  of 
the  Jailor,  I.  xxix.  §.  10.— whether  he  writ  anything, 
II.  i.  Note  (f). — his  Pleafantry  at  his  Trial,  II.  v.  Note 

(f). wrote  Hymns  in  Prifon,  11.  vi.  §.  2. — made  his 

Opponent  bear  witnefs  to  him,  II.  xii.  §.  2.  xxvi.  §.  2. — 
hisChalVity,  II.  xvi. I.  §.  4.— ne\'er  provoked  ina  Difpute, 
II.  xii.  §.  ii.— never  quarrelled,  nor  fuiFered  others  to  quar- 
rel, IV.  v.  §.  I.— -Author  of  Confutation,  III.  xiv.§. 4.— 

his 


INDEX. 

his  Modefly,  III.  xxiii.  §.  i.     IV.  viii.  §.  5. — his  Neat- 

nefs,  IV.  xi.  §.  3. his  Courage,  IV.  i.  §.  18. — in  what 

manner  he  loved  his  Children,  Ill.xxiv.  §.  4.  IV.  i.  §.  18. 

— difobeyed    the  thirty  Tyrants,   IV.   i.   i  18. his 

Anfwer  about  his  Burial,  I.  xxix.  Note  {b). when 

advifed  to  prepare  for  his  Trial,  II.  ii.  §.  i. to  Crito, 

IV.i.  §.  18. 

Solicitude  the  Effe61  of  Ignorance,  II.  xiii.  §.  i.  xvi.  §.  r. 

Solitude  a  State  of  Repofe  and  Freedom,  I.  xii.  §.  2.     IV.  iv. 

§.  3. to  be  rendered  agreeable  by  Contemplation, 

and  Dependence  on  God,  III.  xiii.  §.  i. 

Soul,  a  Portion  of  the  divine  EiTence,  I.  xiv.  §.  i.     xvii.  §.  2. 

II.  viii.  §.  2. never  willingly  deprived  of  Truth,  I. 

xxviii.  §.  I.     II.  xxii.  §.5. 

Spartans,  I.  ii.  §.  i . 

Superfluities  to  be  avoided,  Ench.  c.  xxxiii.  xxxix.  Frag. 
xxi.  XXV.  xxix. 

Sura,  III.  xvii.  Note  (dj. 

T. 

T^hanlf giving  recommended,  B.  I.  c.  i.  §.  3.  iv.  §.  5.  xli.  §. 

r.    xvi.  §.  3.    II.  xxiii.  §.  i.    III.  v.  §.  i.    IV.iv.§.  i.  vii. 

§.2. 
Tbrafeus,  I.  i.  §.  2. 

V. 

Vanity  reproved,  Ench.  c.  vi.  xliv.    xlix.  Frag.  xiii. 

Vefpafian,  I,  ii.  §.4. 

Vulgar  to  be  avoided.  III.  xvi.  §.  2.  Ench.  c.  xxxiii. 

Difference  between  them  and  a  Philofopher.  Ench.  c. 

xlviii. 

W. 
Women,  for  what  to  be  efteemed,  Ench.  xl. 
World,  a  Syflem  compofed  of  Men  and  God,  I.  ix.  §.  i.— — 

one  great  City,  III.  xxiv.  §.  1.3. hath  a  Governor,  II. 

xiv.  §.  4. 
Worfhip,  (divine)  recommended,  III.  vii.  §.  3.     IV.  iv.  §.  6. 

Ench.  c.  xxxi. 

Z. 

2em,  I.  XX.  Note  («).    B.  II.  c.  xiii.  h.  2.    IV.  viii.  §.  2. 

A  P  P  E  N- 


APPENDIX. 

THE  learned  Dr.  Taylor,  Editor  of  Lyjtas  ^nd  De- 
tnojlhenesy  having  honoured  me  with  his  Opinion, 
concerning  fome  PalTages,  about  which  he  was  con? 
fulted,  I  am  enabled  by  his  Obfervations  to  make  the  fol- 
lowing Improvements  to  this  Work. 

Page  32.  Add  to  Note  {h) It  feems  probable,  that  a 

great  deal  Is  wanting;  and  that  on  «»Sf«7rni,«  belongs  to  one 
Story,  and  t»  ovv,  B<pny  to  another. 

P.  67.    But  how  then  came  any  fuch  Sufpicions 

Perhaps  the  iSenfe  is,  Whence  arife  our  Sufpicions,  Jealou- 
fies,  and  Fears,  coricerning  our  Children,  if  we  have  np 
natural  Affe6lion  towards  them  ? 

P.  87.  Add  to  Note  (^)— Or,  perhaps,  i^w  fhould 

p.  102.  This  your  ViQory,  this  your  Conclufion .  . . . » 
Perhaps  Vi^ory  and  Conclufion  fhould  change  Places. 

P.  126.  To  Note  (^)radd— Bvit,  as  ^0,^x^0  occurs  not 
dfewhere,  and  reading  it  here  will  rnake  an  improper  Repe- 
tition of  nearly  the  fame  Senfe,  and^«$£uaj  Tt»»  fignifies,  to 
do  fcMTiething  to  another,  L.  4.  c.  7 .  p.  628.  edit.  Upt.  and  iu 
Lxfias,  Jpoi.inSim.  p.  79.  contra  Agorat.  p   235,  it  will  be 

fceft  to  preferve  the  prefent  Reading,  ancj  tp  tranllal:e  it ; 

What  doth  he  lofe,,  who  naakes  him  fuch  ? 

P.  149.  To  Note  (z)  add Prov,  viii.  34.  and  £V-. 

tf/r//  ^iv.  23.  fpeak  of  'waiting  and  hearkening  at  the  Doors  of 
IVtfdom.  Yet  the  Paflage,  to  which  Mr.  Upton,  refers,  p, 
577,  of  his  Edition,  and  p.  327  of  this  Tranfla^tiop,  favours 
the  received  Reading. 

P.  350.  To  Note  (/)  add Probably  here  is  an  Allufion 

to  til e  Proverb,  cited  by  WolfiuSy  ettj  ^ypo-)}?  xoSsjEo-^ai,  of 
which  fee  Suidas. 

P.  161.  To  Note   [c)  add Yet  poflibly  the  Senfe  of 

nvhv  may  be  couched  under  «^. 

P.  ii  r.  To  Note  f*^)  add But  a  much  better,  and  al- 
ine (l  certain  Conjecline  is,  to  read  aTraXXarloftEva?  inftead  of 
'^j.cci\:fi,tv^,.  And  then  the  Tranflation  will  be Concern- 
ing thcfe,  who  return,  or,  were  returning  home,  on  ac- 
ccunt  of  Sicknefs. 

p.  223^ 


A    P    P    E    N    t)   I    :^. 

p.  223.  To  Note  (b)  add But,  on  farther  Confidc- 

ration,  the  Senfe  of  returning  or  departing,  which  avaA^« 
hath,  Luke  xii.  36.    Phi!,  i.  23.  and  avet>,vaii,  2  Tim,  iv.  6. 

feems  proper  here :  and  the  Tranllation  mav  be —You 

go  to  the  Theatre,  or  thence  to  Cbme  ether  Place.  For 
Ferfons  often  move  from  one  PJace  to  another,  merely  be- 
taufe  they  are  amufed  in  none. 

P.  227.  To  Note  {/)  add— But  prbbably  it  fhbuld  be 

changed  into  TrtSey,  and  the  Tranflation  be ^Vvhat  Oc- 

cafion  for  Anger j  for  Defire  . .  .  :  .  Thefe  two  Greek-  Words 
are  confounded  elfewhere*  And  the  fame  Alteration  ieems 
lieedfu!  in  Porphyr,  de  Abft.  L.  I.  §;  2. 

P.  229.  To  Note  (<)  add He  is  fenfible  however,  that 

ai/wC7o»;^nv  is  not  exaftly  to  throw  one's  felf  on  one  Side  -  and 
flands  condemned  by  Pkrynicus^  as  a  low  ExpreiTion. 

P.  244.  To  Note  (^/}  add -Or  we  may  fuppofea-s-arr,, 

to  be  a  Glofs,  or  a  caliial  Repetition  of  the  fame  Word  oc- 
curring in  the  Line  before :  and  fo  tranflatcj  there  €$:ijis  tht 
Knowledge^  S^c. 

P.  270.  To  Note  (d)  add Or,  perhaps^  rather  the 

former  o^to?  fhould  be  left  oiit, 

P.  279.  To  Note  (^)  add-^ -Yet,  poffibly,  the  pre^ 

fent  Reading  may  fland,  and  be  tranflated.  But  ^our  Life  is 
u  perpetual  Magillrocy. 

P.  298.  To  Note  (r-)  add -OrTa<p.Xo!To?>3may  meair, 

Of  the  philof'jphic  Principle. 

P.  305-  To  Note  [h)  add ^Or  the  latter  o^rov  ^t7.m  may 

be  a  Repetition  of  the  Tranfcriber, 

P.  323.  To  Note  {d)  add For  o-Km  I  have  taken  the 

Reading  of  Mr.  Upton's  Copy,  cix>.u;v. 

P.  329.  To  Note  (^)  add Yet  I  Vvould  not  infot  a 

Negative  uhneceffarily. 

P.  332.  Note  (c-);    For,  rub  tbemfehes  luiib,  pm,  ibr^w 
an  their  Antagmifis, 

P.  341.  1  o  Note  [e)  add Perhaps  cflfo  what  follows, 

and  particularly  a^t  w^c/?«tov,  is  corrupt. 

P.  345.  To  Note  [o)  add -But  this  OmilTion  was 

probably  owing  to  the  Tranfcribers  dipping  from  ^<,a^.-,,  to 
the  like  Word  /*«,Savi,P.  Pofr>bly,  inftead  of  leading  oir; 
xat,  we  fhould  rather  fuppofe,  that  fomething  before  it  i« 
left  out.  And  in  all  Likelihood  the  true  Tranllation  of 
»«>  HXy  avu  xaru,  inftead  of  fbould  not  you,  Sec.  is  the  follow- 
ing :  IS  7iot  this,  i,  e.  undertaking  to  convince  others  inilead 
ofyourfelf,  inverting  the  Order  of  Things  ^ 

P.  371.  The  Notes  {h)  and  (/}  fhould  change  Places. 

P.  373' 


^4     ' 

APPEND    I  %. 

P.  373.  Add  to  Note(fl) Or  rather,  after  the  next 

Word  :  and  the  Tranflation  fhould  be,  Tet  now,  without 
being  Jenfible  of  it,  you  do  fomething  like  this,  even  in  the  pre~ 
fent  Cafe,  Ccnfider your  Body,  &c.  But  ftill  the  Separation 
of  o;afrom  nai  wv  is  fomewhat  unnatural,  and  takes  off  from 
the  Spirit  and  Quicknefs  of  the  Repartee. 

p.  374.  Squalid The  original  Word  fignifies,   in 

general,  pale.  And,  probably,  Anflophanes  meant  the 
Palenefs,  ^'hich  proceeds  from  a  fedentary  ftudious  Life. 
But  Epi^etus  plainly  underflood  him,  of  that  unwholefome 
Look,  which  Want  of  Cleaniinefs  gives. 

P.  377.  To  Note  [a)  add -Or,  as  Cafaubon  con- 

je6tures,    asrwSeiv.     Or,   perhaps,   as  Mr.  Upton  propofes, 

rTTMTl^EftSl'OV   fhould   be  yTTEpTt^E/ASVO?. 

P.  378.  Is  he  my  Ccnfcience Kp/xa  fignifies,  p. 

652.  1.  6.  and  p.  660.  1.  5.  of  Mr.  Upton's  Edition,  ths 
Judgment,  Avhich  any  one  pafTes  in  his  own  Mind. 

P.  394.  To  Note  (.6)  add For  nothing  appears,  to 

fupport  fo  great  an  Encomium  of  that  Philofopher :  where- 
as Hercules  and  Diogenes  were  Favourites  of  the  Stoics,  and 
particularly  of  our  Author  ;  and  the  latter  profefTed  himfelf 
an  Imitator  of  the  former.  But  then  he  was  never  deified. 
And  therefore  may  we  not  put  in  his  ftead,  Atovycoc,  Bac^ 
cbus  ?  They  are  joined  by  the  Ancients.  See  ^.  Curt. 
L.  Vm.c.  5.  ^nAHor.  Epijl.  II.  i.  5.  10.  And  they  will 
ftand  here  in  their  proper  Order.  But  this  may  be  thought 
too  licentious  a  Change.  And,  to  fay  nothing  oi  Hercules^ 
Bacchus  was  by  no  means  remarkable  for  Abftemioufnefs. 

P.  404.  To  Note  («)  add This  Reading  he  hath 

taken  from  an  Edition  in  1554,  faid  to  be  made  from  a 
better  Manufcript  than  the  common  Editions.  He  under- 
flands  it  to  mean,  Jiruck  and  offered  over-flrongly  by  Exter^ 
rials.  AiajSsCxr/xEyo?  means,  averfe  from,  L.  II.  c.  26.  in  the 
beginning,  and  Philojlrat.  vit.  JpoIIon.  VIII.  7.^  3.  But 
from  the  vulgar  Senfe,  calum?iiated,  it  may  mean  here,  one 
to  whom  Externals  have  been  mifreprefented,  who  hath  a 
Mifconception  of  the  World. 

P.  416.  And  Vice,  by  Money Perhaps  for*!xaxi« 

fhould  be  read  avrvxi»,  a  Turn  of  good  Fortune. 


FINIS. 


?/•»■  V  / 


d